The Home That Might Have Been
by jodianne87
Summary: There was a glint in Booth's eyes, something that he knew had to look slightly manic, and he forced away the hysteria at how screwed up everything was—how wrong they both had gotten things.
1. Chapter 1

AN: This is my second foray into Bones FF. It's set in the next year or so, and will likely turn out more than a little revisionist. The story will be multi-chaptered, probably between 7 and 10 chapters. Just a warning: my updates will probably be sporadic. I don't have the whole story written yet, but I have a complete outline, and most of the second chapter written. It might take awhile between updates. I do my best to make sure my work is the best it can be, but that means it takes multiple revisions, rewriting, editing, and more time.

I don't have a beta, so any mistakes are my own. Reviews are welcomed and encouraged, but I won't hold chapters hostage for them. If I'm done with a chapter, I'll post it.

Thanks for reading, and my apologies for the super-long AN. Enjoy!

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_"All changes, even the most longed for, have their melancholy; for what we leave behind us is a part of ourselves; we must die to one life before we can enter another."_  
_-Anatole France

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It had been just over six months since Booth, Brennan and the rest of the team reunited. Although reunited might have been too generous of a word—its connotations were rejoicing, laughter, happiness. The return of these individuals included little of the sort—it was grim, determined, largely devoid of any real joy. Little had changed in that regard in the intervening time.

Temperance Brennan sat at her desk, reading over the case file for a skeleton from modular bone storage. One of the interns—a kind, well-mannered, bright young lady named Emma Marshall—had performed all of the preliminary work on the remains, and Brennan was simply reviewing the girl's accurate findings. Without warning, she dropped the file and reached up to rub her temples. The pounding headache that rested behind her eyes had not abated since that morning, and Brennan felt like she could scream from frustration. The pain was dividing her usually guaranteed focus, and she could find no respite. A deep sigh escaped her, and she couldn't summon up the desire to feel upset from something that she would have formerly deemed a weakness. A tap on her door startled her, and she looked up to see Angela, her face creased in sympathy.

"You could hear that sigh in the parking lot, Bren. Everything okay?" Brennan smiled ruefully, knowing that Angela was exaggerating, but also that she had a point.

"I just have this awful headache. I've had it all morning. You know I dislike taking unnecessary medication, but I was willing today. Even the ibuprofen I took isn't helping." Brennan also knew that her voice carried a distinct whine to it, but she couldn't quite bring herself to care that much.

"That sucks, sweetie. I wish there was something I could do to help."

"Don't worry, Ange. It'll go away eventually. It's just making it harder for me to focus on my work." The two women sat in silence for a few moments, before Angela spoke again.

"You know sweetie, I'm really proud of you." Brennan looked up at her, confusion and wariness warring for a place in her expression.

"Why? To my knowledge I haven't done anything recently that was uncharacteristic or worthy of pride on your part." Angela chuckled.

"Just, in general, Bren." Seeing that Brennan still didn't understand, Angela sighed and continued. "Ever since you came back from Maluku, you've been different. You're more open with me, Hodgins, even Cam. Like now, for instance. You just admitted that you are in pain and that it affects you. That's something that you would have struggled with before. You go for drinks with us, and make jokes on the platform. You're just…more open to human interaction with everyone." A strange look flicked across Brennan's face, and Angela quickly amended her thoughts. "Okay, well not everyone, but a lot of people. You even outright praise the new interns—they know right away whether or not you like them." A small smile finally appeared on Brennan's face. Success.

"Well, Angela, you know how you told me to find something that completely changes what it means to be human? I did—at least I realized what being human was, and that alone was no way to live a life. I still don't really believe in all the socially accepted rituals and mores, like marriage, but friends…friends are important." Brennan gave a half smile. "I may be alone romantically, by my own desires and doings, but I won't be really alone." Angela gaped at her. She knew that Brennan had changed, but to hear her admit to it outright was something of a shock. Brennan's next words almost made her cry. "You have a lot to do with that, Ange. Even before I left, you helped teach me about friendship. You and Booth." Brennan's face closed off slightly and Angela got a small glimpse of the old Brennan. Deciding that the current situation was probably best to broach the topic—what with Brennan's uncharacteristic emotional honesty—she decided to ask the question that had been killing her with curiosity since their return all those months ago.

"I know you probably would rather not talk about it, but Bren, what's going on with you and Booth these days? You're both different. Even since he and Hannah called it quits." Brennan looked back up at Angela sharply, and then her face softened. She released another sigh, knowing that she should tell someone. Angela misunderstood the sigh, and tried to backtrack. "I mean, you're still working fantastically together, but you don't seem to get along the same way you did before." Angela braced herself for an excuse about adjusting, or time apart changing people or even outright denial, so Brennan's answer surprised her.

"Well, Angela, it's not really that complicated. Booth told me he was going to move on. He came back with Hannah—a clear indication that he had—and I recognized the need to allow him a healthy, adult relationship with a woman who he truly cared about. I understood, despite what people may think about me, that my former relationship with Booth would have caused problems with any normal woman." Here, Angela couldn't suppress a chuckle, thinking that Brennan's statement was an understatement. Brennan gave her a friendly glare, and continued. "As such, I distanced myself so that Booth and I had a cordial, friendly, _professional_ relationship. And even after they broke up, Booth was dating other women casually. I knew that if we reasserted our former behavior, it would be detrimental in the long run." Brennan took a deep breath.

"So yes, we are different. But this is how it has to be now, Ange. I'd really appreciate it if you could make sure the others don't try and blindside Booth with the same question. I'm fairly certain that he is unaware of the deliberate nature of my actions. Such information would only cause him pain." There was a beat of silence, and then—

"Brennan, you love him." Angela wasn't asking a question, or trying to convince Brennan of anything. She was making a statement, half out of shock and half out of sadness for her friend.

"Yes, Ange, I do. That has not been in question for some years. However, he has moved on, and I will not let our dysfunction rob him of a happy life. I assume, since he informed me of his love for Hannah that his feelings regarding me have changed. This is the way that life happened, Angela, and there's little I can do to change my circumstances. I am happy with my life, secure in the knowledge that I have friends and a family who care for me deeply, and a satisfying professional life. Why would I ruin that at this point?" Angela still gaped at her, and Brennan sighed once more.

"Angela, I would appreciate it if you supported me in this." The slight plea in her voice snapped Angela out of her shock, and she sent a sad smile to Brennan.

"Of course, sweetie. I understand. Sometimes, life doesn't work out the way we want it to, but that doesn't mean we can't still be happy with it." Brennan smiled an equally sad, though grateful smile at her friend's uncharacteristic willingness to **not **be a romantic and insist that she and Booth belong together. Angela rose from the seat she had sunk into, and started towards the door. "I hope your headache goes away, sweetie. And I really am proud of you." In the doorway, she almost bumped into Booth, and they both took an unsure step back.

"Whoa there Angela—you should watch where you're going!" The grin on Booth's face reassured Angela that it was a joke, and she chuckled while patting his shoulder and walking away. A saucy grin lit up her face.

"I think you should probably watch where you're going, G-man. But then again, maybe you were just looking for an excuse to have full body contact with a beautiful woman." She winked at him. "I'm flattered, but remember Booth, I'm a married woman—and Hodgins has a jealous streak." The blush on Booth's face made Angela laugh harder, and as she walked away, she saw Hodgins grinning at her antics from the platform.

Brennan rolled her eyes at her friend's behavior, and began to rise from her post at the desk. She looked at Booth expectantly.

"Do we have a case, Booth?" He blinked over at her, and shook his head. Brennan concealed her surprise—it had been over a month since Booth came to the Jeffersonian without case-related reasons. Another byproduct of their new normal. Instead, she quirked an eyebrow at him, silently asking why he was there. She was grateful that even now, their non-verbal communication was excellent, and knew that whatever the reason Booth was in her office, he was uncomfortable. His body language was screaming it. One side of her mouth curled up, almost unnoticeably, as she reveled in the fact that she could still read him.

"Nope, no case Bones. Actually, I'm just here to give you some…" he struggled for a moment for the right word. "…news, I guess." His tone switched from nervous to businesslike, and Brennan knew that he was disconnecting from her. The thought that he did that now made her sad, but she quashed the feeling brutally. "I'm here to let you know ahead of time that the team here is going to be working with Agent Jenson for the foreseeable future. I'm going an undercover, and I have no idea when I'll be back." He saw Brennan begin to blanch, and misunderstood her. Another thing different. "Don't worry though, Bones. Jenson is a great agent. He's thorough, polite, and very skilled with investigative work. I'm sure you'll work with him just fine. Look, I can't stay long. I'm going under in the morning, and I've still got other stuff to do. You okay with this?" He barely gave Brennan enough time to breathe before he spoke again. "Okay then. I'll see you… later, I guess." Booth turned to the door, and was halfway there before Brennan's voice stopped him.

"Can you wait one minute, Booth? I'd like to talk about this with you." He sighed at the steel in her voice, knowing that if he didn't turn around and behave like an adult instead of a scared teenager, she would follow him until he listened to her. He turned.

"Well, there's not really anything to talk about. This is a career making operation. The Bureau has been working this case since before I left for Afghanistan, so when they gave me the opportunity to go under and help close it, I couldn't really say no." He looked at her steadily, hoping that she'd just take the explanation and let her go. Brennan blinked at him, seeming to process something.

"Gave you the opportunity." Something cleared in her face. "You mean this was your choice." Brennan's voice was quiet and calm, with a hint of some unidentifiable quality lurking below the surface. She was swallowing back the need to grab him and keep him from leaving her, while he was hoping that she'd just let him go without fuss. After all this time, he had no defense against tears or pleading or even anger from this woman. She opened her mouth and shut it a few times before speaking again. "I find… I find that I am insulted that you made this decision without talking to me. You expressed similar feelings when you thought that I'd accepted the position with the Maluku dig without first consulting you. I understood your feelings then, but now I find I have more empathy towards them." She fixed her eyes on him, and the clear blue seemed to burn him. It had been awhile since she had turned this kind of gaze on him. Booth sputtered before answering.

"Well, it was different then, Bones. We were different. You've made it very clear to me that you only want a professional relationship with me, so I am doing what I would with any other professional colleague." Without intending to, Booth let venom leak into his voice, and it surprised both of them. Brennan still fixed that gaze on him, and he stifled the urge to squirm or flee. She wanted to have this out right now? Fine—now was as good a time as any.

Brennan felt the weight of his words, and it only surprised her slightly that Booth had realized—at least partially—what she had done to them. Her earlier words to Angela were a combination of wishful thinking and the knowledge that Booth would not respond well to probing from their team. His anger hurt her, but she also knew that it was warranted. She wanted to shut down, to respond that everything was fine and let him leave—like the colleague she was—but a small part of her rebelled and urged her to defend herself. A scoff shot out of her mouth uncontrollably, and she winced at the sound but carried on. The rebellious part of her was winning, it seemed.

"It wasn't like I was doing it for kicks, Booth. I enjoyed and valued our friendship as much as you did!" Her voice was louder, less controlled than she intended it, and Booth's rose in retaliation.

"Well, it didn't really seem like you did! We come back, and there was that hug at the airport. I thought, great, everything is going to be normal again, no awkwardness or anything. But then, it was like you flipped a switch or something. All of a sudden, I only get the "Professional Dr. Brennan," all the time. I spent weeks trying to figure out what happened so that I could fix it, but eventually I had to give up! Apparently that's what you did!" He was practically shouting by the end of his tirade, and Brennan was ignoring the burning at the back of her eyes. She had vowed the night she returned from Indonesia that she would never shed tears over Booth again, and she was determined to stick to that vow. Instead, she let her anger carry her forward.

"Well, I'm sorry Booth, but even I'm observant enough to realize that our kind of friendship would have been bad for your relationship with Hannah—or with any other woman. Our time apart gave me the opportunity to get control of myself so that wouldn't happen." Brennan told herself that these were lies for his own good. They weren't strictly true—Brennan had actually realized just how much she loved him in Indonesia and that she would do anything for him because of that. It was only after the hug at the airport and her introduction to Hannah that she realized _anything_ included breaking her own heart.

Booth stared at her, not quite sure what to make of that revelation. Unfortunately, the angry part of his brain reared up, and intentionally misunderstood her words.

"Oh, so now you're blaming this entirely on me, huh? Just because I decided to go and live my life outside of the little bubble you've created here, you think that this is entirely my fault? I don't think so, _Brennan_. You don't get to blame all of this on me. _I_ didn't abandon _you_. I am not going to take the blame for every guy that's disappointed you in some way. I am _not_ a scapegoat for the other losers in your life. There's a common thread there, you see, and it _isn't_ me. If you were equipped with the ability to understand emotion, like any normal woman, we wouldn't even HAVE this problem!" As the words left his mouth, Booth regretted them more than anything he had ever said to Brennan—and that was a lot of things. Brennan just stared at him, unblinking, with a look of shock on her face. Booth almost swore he saw the bright sheen of tears in her eyes, and that did not surprise, although it appeared that way because of his own shock. He opened his mouth, with no idea what to say, or how to make it right, but a new voice stopped him.

"Seeley, I think you've said enough, don't you?" Cam's cool voice washed over the room, and Booth turned to look at her, standing at the door. The thin line of her lips made him hope that he looked the way he felt—ashamed, apologetic, and guilty. He suspected, though, that it wouldn't help him, even if he did. He glanced back at Brennan, but she seemed to have a blank look in her eyes. He opened his mouth again. "No, Seeley. I think you should leave." He stood frozen in place, between a woman that had bewitched him for the better part of seven years, and his ex-girlfriend, who were somehow on the same side. Cam moved out of the door way. "Now." Her tone left no room for argument, and had Booth been in a more jovial mood, he would have enjoyed the motherliness that it held. He started for the door, when once more, Brennan stopped him.

"No. Booth needs to stay." Brennan blinked, and looked toward Cam. The two women shared a look, and Booth saw a smile—small, unhappy, but a smile nonetheless—cross Brennan's face. She spoke again. "Thank you, Cam, but Booth and I should have had this conversation a long time ago. Can you shut the door on the way out? We'll do our best to keep it down." Cam's face softened when she looked at Brennan, and she gave one curt nod. As she turned to leave, she fixed Booth with a look he'd never seen from her before—pity, disdain, shame, disappointment. They all mixed on her exotic features, and then she was gone. Brennan's voice interrupted his thoughts.

"Booth, I understand that you have some latent anger towards me about what happened last spring. I do not expect you to forgive me for the way that I hurt you. I never have." Brennan's voice wavered the tiniest bit before she stiffened her spine and her tone. "However, I resent the implication that I do not understand the emotions that got us to the place that we are, and I will not allow you to use my ignorance of interpersonal interactions and my poor romantic choices against me. Let me explain something to you, Booth." Brennan's voice dropped, and she seemed to gather her courage before continuing.

"I would like to explain to you why I chose to draw away from our friendship." Booth snorted at her clinical tone, but the sharp look she gave him made him immediately regret it. He shot her a contrite look, not trusting his words again, and Brennan continued.

"Last spring, you surprised me. You confronted me with emotions that I knew of, and felt, and my reaction was less than ideal. However, regardless of how you interpreted what I said, I will stand by my argument. At that point in time, my fear of emotional intimacy would have ruined any relationship we had. That would have hurt you—and me—more than my refusal did, so I made a reasoned decision, for both of our goods. I maintain that it was the right one at the time."

"However, after I left for Indonesia, and after I had been there for some time, I began learning about myself. After several months, I realized that I was eager and ready to return home, so that I may have the opportunity to tell you that I had grown—and more importantly, in what ways I had grown. Less than a month later, Cam contacted me, and I returned to D.C. and the Jeffersonian, looking forward to seeing you and informing you of my findings. But you arrived with Hannah in tow, and I realized that you had moved on. I entertained the idea of fighting for your affections, but when you told me that night that you loved Hannah, I knew that I had to let you love her. That's why I stopped doing everything but work with you. Women understand other women, and regardless of your feelings, your spending time with a woman who felt about you the way that I do would have hurt your relationship with her. She knew how I felt at that first meeting. On the island, I realized that I love you—and at home, I realized that meant I had to do the best thing for you. So I did. And I will not allow you to terrorize me for that. I'm sorry for any confusion, or pain I might have inadvertently caused. I had hoped that you were happy enough with you relationship that you would not notice or miss our relationship." Booth stared at her, not entirely believing or understanding what she had told him. Only one thing came to his mind.

"But Hannah and I broke up months ago, Bones. Why the act, still?" Brennan looked at him sharply.

"You are still dating, Booth. You still want what you wanted before, and I will not allow myself to get in the way of your happiness. Regardless of my own feelings, you are moving on, and I am making sure that you can. A relationship between us is no longer a plausible option." She finished with finality in her voice that scared Booth, and he strode from his post near the door to Brennan. He leaned into her personal space, enjoying that even now, when everything between them had changed, she did not back down from him. He could feel her breath on his face, and his eyes flicked down to her lips. It had been months since they were this close, and Booth was unhappy—_strangely relieved?_—to realize that she still intoxicated him like she had before. She wasn't the only one convinced that he was moving on. Her blue eyes caught his gaze, and his head dipped the tiniest bit. He paused there, a breath away from her, and then pulled away abruptly, remembering his anger and her actions. He couldn't keep the hostility out of his voice when he spoke.

"What about my feelings, Bones? Did you take them into consideration when you made all your important decisions? You didn't think to ask me how I felt about any of this, did you?" He voice was taunting and they both hated the hint of cruelty that it carried. Brennan looked up at him steadily, not wavering even now.

"Your feelings were abundantly clear, Booth." The coolness of her voice made him pull further away, and she secretly mourned the loss of his presence. She was sure in the strength of her argument. Booth had begun dating quickly after he and Hannah ended their relationship, and though most dates were only first dates, he was always more than happy to share the appropriate parts with her. Before, when he _knew_, he was extremely uncomfortable with sharing anything about his romantic life with her, and she had realized that it was because of his feelings for her. The new developments, his recent openness could only be explained by two things. Either he was trying to make her jealous—and Booth was far too honorable a man to do something like that—or he no longer felt the same affection for her. The realization had saddened her when she made months before, and it still saddened her, but she shoved those feelings down as well. He deserved to be happy—and he seemed to be getting there.

"Apparently, not clear enough. Had you bothered to ask me, this whole situation would have been completely different." There was a glint in Booth's eyes, something that he knew had to look slightly manic, and he forced away the hysteria at how screwed up everything was—how wrong they both had gotten things. He took a breath, wondering whether the next sentence was worth saying. "Next time, Bones, you should fight a little more for what you want." With that he turned and strode quickly from the room. "I have to go say goodbye to my son now, Bones. If I can, I'll call or text you before I'm gone."

Brennan sank down into her chair as Booth strode out of sight. With her head resting on her palms, she was the picture of exhausted. A cleared throat made her look up. Cam stood at the doorway. Brennan smiled ruefully.

"It could have gone better, but at least that conversation is over with." A smile graced Cam's face at Brennan's words and reactions, and she turned and left as quietly as she'd come.

"_I felt despair. Though it seems to me now there's two kinds of it: the sort that causes a person to surrender and then the sort I had which made me take risks and make plans." –Erica Eisdorfer_


	2. Chapter 2

AN: I apologize-I told couple people that I would likely have this chapter up by yesterday. Things changed, though, so it's a bit late.

A couple warnings: There's no Brennan in this chapter-sorry, but I have to move the story along, get Booth through his time away. I didn't want to draw it out over multiple chapters (mostly because that's exhausting and I suck at case-speak), so there's this. It is also a lot of narrative, for the same reasons.

It's also been brought to my attention that Booth is being especially jerk-ish. Yes. He is. He will probably continue to be. Sorry, but he's human. It will all get fixed in the end. Trust me.

Last thing: I know I said this story would probably be between 8 and 10 chapters. Now, I'm thinking that it will probably end with chapter 7. Any more would be dragging it out unnecessarily.

That's all. I hope this chapter satisfies, or at least interests.

Oh, also. Thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter and gave me your thoughts on it. I appreciated it, and it helped me consider where to take the story in the future.

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"_No matter under what circumstances you leave it, home does not cease to be home. No matter how you lived there-well or poorly."-Joseph Brodsky_

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One month later

Johnny D'Abruzzo sat outside a quiet, unassuming restaurant on the fringes of the French Quarter in New Orleans. He was wearing a dark suit without a tie, and with the top two buttons of his starched white shirt undone. On one side, where his expensive suit jacket draped back, you could see the leather straps of a shoulder holster. Dark sunglasses covered his eyes, and to anyone passing by, the message was clear. _You do not want to be in this establishment right now._ He was using a pocketknife to clean his nails, and if he weren't so terrifying, he would have been devastatingly handsome.

An older man stepped out of the restaurant, and Johnny started to his feet. He looked around and leaned in to whisper something to the older man. The older man nodded his head, and when D'Abruzzo kept talking, he chuckled at whatever joke the younger man told him.

The older man, Alberto Tenaglia, waited at the curb while a sleek black car pulled around the corner. D'Abruzzo watched vigilantly for any threats or dangers to his boss before they both climbed in the car, and drove off.

Minutes later, the car pulled up to the gates of a pristine, white Georgian mansion. The house was lavish, and even from the end of the long drive, D'Abruzzo could make out the detail on the latticed balcony railings and at the ends of the Roman columns that supported the wraparound balcony and porch. French doors lined the front of the house, and in the middle of the summer evening in the Big Easy, the doors had been thrown open for ventilation and a stunning view of the manicured lawns.

As the car drew near and stopped, D'Abruzzo preceded Tenaglia out of the car, and instinctively checked for threats or danger, just as he had at the restaurant. He began following the older man up the steps to the house, looking forward to the cool inside after having held his post outside the restaurant for several hours. Tenaglia stopped abruptly and turned to him.

"Where do you think you're going?" Tenaglia asked, his voice non-threatening and with a laugh in it. Regardless of the tone he used with his men though, there was always a sinister feel to his words. From one sentence, people knew that this man was capable of terrible things. D'Abruzzo blanched.

"I thought we were going inside." His open confusion brought a smile to Tenaglia's face, and he laughed.

"You need a night off, Johnny. You been doing nothing but keepin' me company for weeks now. Go find yourself a girl or something." Tenaglia began to turn around, but saw that D'Abruzzo was not moving. "Well, don't make me make it an order." D'Abruzzo started, and backed down the walkway.

"Thanks, sir. I mean, I appreciate it." D'Abruzzo began to turn when Tenaglia said his name in a quiet voice. He faced the old man again.

"I expect you'll keep our business this afternoon quiet." Tenaglia fixed him with a steady stare that D'Abruzzo knew meant that he better answer right. "You got plenty of other ways to impress a girl than braggin' about your work."

"Of course, sir." D'Abruzzo kept his voice carefully calm, and didn't give in to the nervousness that Tenaglia's steady measuring gaze induced. He turned to walk away again, and this time, Tenaglia didn't stop him, though he could feel the man's stare on his back as he left.

A half an hour later found him back in the French Quarter, in a seedy hotel just above a tourist-ridden club that raged night and day. Anyone coming or going here was easily lost in the crowd. D'Abruzzo climbed the steps to the room he was assigned, and took a deep breath, relieved that he could stop his acting for awhile, but unable to fully relax. He used the keycard to open the room, and took in the man sitting at the cheap wooden desk.

"Hey, Jackson." The man at the desk swirled around and gave him a dirty look. D'Abruzzo only shrugged his shoulders.

"It's been two weeks since you made contact. I thought you were dead or worse. What the hell, Booth?"

"Hey, don't give me your shit. You told me to make contact only when it was as safe as possible. Tenaglia's had me at his side practically day and night since we last talked. I didn't want to put the operation in jeopardy just because you were a lonely bastard." Jackson grimaced, knowing that Booth was right, but not liking it at all.

"Well, why'd he let you out now? You in trouble or something?" Booth chuffed out a laugh, scornful and unhappy at best.

"He told me to go out and cut loose. Find a girl or something. And I think I've probably got to—to show them what I'm doing with my free time." The wheels started turning in Booth's head, and he realized that this could be a good thing—maybe not something he wanted to do, but a good thing nonetheless. "Actually, that could be perfect. If I get a girlfriend or someone I'm seeing, then I can claim that I want to see her, and then make a little detour over here to see you. It's not great, but it'll give me the occasional excuse to get out of the mansion." Jackson looked at him, a dubious expression on his face.

"Do you really think that they won't check up on her? I mean, they'll probably ask for times and particulars. You can't trust anyone with enough information to lie convincingly for you." Booth paused, considering this angle.

"Well, maybe I don't come see you. But it'll get me out of the house long enough to make a discreet phone call or two. I can tell her you're my brother or something, and call you occasionally. Look, I know it's far from perfect, but I will make it work."

In choosing his character for the undercover operation, Booth had fashioned an extremely convincing man—in large part because the man was him, with a few differences. Fewer (no) scruples, more Italian, more blind obedience, little things like that. But no matter how much Johnny D'Abruzzo was a modified Seeley Booth, the character was still exhausting.

Booth sat in the chair across the room from Agent Jackson and updated him on all new intel from the past few weeks. Jackson was his handler, and his only means to contact the Bureau and his family in D.C. While they talked, Booth was only half paying attention. The other half of his mind was occupied with trying to purge the guilt that he could feel setting in every day. The problem with long term ops like this one was that you had to watch countless atrocities until the one that you were looking for happened. In this case, the FBI needed confirmation and evidence that the local mafia was smuggling drugs into New Orleans using human mules, and then killing the poor souls that carried them. Unfortunately, Booth had yet to see anything concrete, and Tenaglia hadn't let him anywhere near the actual enforcement yet. He was generally relegated to waiting away from the scene, and given no direct accounting of what happened. He still had to really prove himself to the mafia boss.

At the thought, Booth's stomach turned. With the kind of ruthless murderers that Tenaglia surrounded himself by, it was doubtful that Booth (D'Abruzzo) would be trusted without doing his part in eliminating a threat or rival. Before this operation finished, Booth knew that he would have to kill someone—he knew that as surely as he knew that he loved and missed Parker, and as surely as he regretted not talking to Brennan again before leaving D.C.—and he honestly had no idea how he would ever make such a killing right. _Murder, you mean_, his conscience whispered cruelly to him every time he thought about the future.

Most nights, thoughts of the terrible things he was party to, and he would surely have to do haunted his sleep. He did not know how to reconcile things, and he prayed to God that somehow, he'd be forgiven, eventually. And each night, after he prayed for preemptory forgiveness, he banished all thoughts but those that invariably made him smile—Parker, Bones, the squint squad. For obvious reasons, he had not been allowed to bring any pictures or reminders with him, so on those nights when the guilt and shame threatened to overcome him, he would sit in the room Tenaglia assigned him and picture both his son and his partner. He saw Parker's smiling face—happy to see him, laughing as they played hockey. He remembered the early memories of Parker, like the day that he first heard "Daddy" (really, it was a garbled sound that had a 'd' sound and an 'a' sound, but Booth was prepared to call that Daddy), or the first time he saw Parker walk. Moments that made him happier than belief that he was a father. Thoughts that calmed him, and brought a smile to his face.

Those nights also gave him time to think about Bones, and all the time that they had spent together. Her smile and happiness were almost as precious as Parker's, and he relished remembering the times he'd been able to put a real, genuine smile on her face. To his chagrin, he couldn't keep from remembering his most recent encounter—_encounter__**s**_, his traitorous conscience whispered_—_where he treated her so much differently than he had always vowed to.

Upon reflection, Booth acknowledged that he had only appeared to get over Brennan, and that he was apparently a skilled actor. He'd fooled himself, Brennan, Hannah, and the handful of women that he'd seen casually since Hannah—along with all of his other friends and colleagues. He recalled a conversation that he'd had with Hodgins not very long after their respective returns, when he'd been so sure and so happy with Hannah.

"_Hey Booth, you got a minute?"_ _Hodgins approached him in the lab one day, a small smile on his face at Booth's surprise._

"_Sure. What's up, Hodgins? Need something?" Hodgins' smile just grew and he shook his head. _

"_No man, I just wanted to ask if you were up for getting a drink with me tonight. Brennan and Angie are having some kind of bonding night after so long apart. They didn't exactly banish me from the house, but…" He broke off with a small smirk, which Booth returned._

"…_you don't want to be anywhere near that, huh? Smart man." The two men shared a chuckle, and Booth clapped Hodgins on the shoulder. _

"_That's pretty much it. But also, you know, we're friends, and I thought it'd be cool if we caught up." There was a beat, and Booth laughed again._

"_Sure thing, bug-man. Name the time and place, and I'll be there."_

_That night found the two of them nursing drinks in a small bar, quiet and unassuming, tucked away into one of D.C.'s older neighborhoods. _

"_So, Booth. Tell me about the new girl." Hodgins' comment struck Booth out of the blue, and he blinked at Hodgins in surprise before finding his voice._

"_You sure, man? I would've thought that you thought me some kind of traitor or opportunist or something what with…everything else." He didn't explain what he meant, knowing that Hodgins was well-versed in his and Brennan's relationship or partnership or whatever the hell they were calling it these days. He also knew that the other man had never hid his hope that Booth and Brennan would finally get it together. Booth expected most of the lab staff to feel that way, so he was reluctant to really talk about Hannah with them, especially since he and Hannah barely even had time to speak to each other these days._

_Hodgins gave him a lopsided grin._

"_Booth, you know where I stand with 'everything else', but you should know by now that I—we all—just want you to be happy. And by all accounts, this Hannah makes you happy. So I want to hear about her." Booth was blown away by Hodgins upfront statements. A smile broke out over Booth's face before he focused on part of Hodgins' comment._

"_All of you? Does that mean that the entire lab has been discussing me?" He glared at Hodgins, mostly in jest, and the entomologist raised his hands in surrender._

"_No, no. Not discussing. Brennan announced it—you know the way she has of breaking news—and Ange, Cam and me were all there to hear it. She told us you'd found a girlfriend in a war zone, and that you seemed very happy. She was the only one that knew, obviously, and she seem genuinely happy for you. Angela didn't say anything right away, but Cam said that she was happy for you, and we both agreed. This is a good thing." Hodgins finished, a more serious look on his face until he cracked a wide grin. "Plus, you really needed to get laid. You were getting pretty cranky there." Booth smacked him on the back of the head and laughed. They spent the next hour talking about Hannah and Booth, and when the two men parted ways, Hodgins nodded his head again seeming to approve._

"_She really does make you happy. I'm glad you've been able to get there."_

Booth had a similar conversation with Cam a few weeks later, and though Angela had never told him outright, she gladly accompanied Hodgins on double dates with he and Hannah, and she made a brilliant effort to get to know her and make her feel befriended. Hannah had never felt unwanted or uncomfortable with his friends, and he would always appreciate that.

But underneath it all, Booth still loved Brennan, and just buried as deep as he could. He'd worried when he returned that he would struggle with having both her and Hannah in his life, and that he would suffer from a resurgence of feelings for Brennan. Secretly, he could admit, he hoped that Brennan would react poorly to Hannah. It was terrible to hope that, he knew, but that was just one of the many things he had screwed up lately. But his fears had seemed unfounded. Brennan was nothing but polite and friendly to Hannah. She engaged her in conversations when they came across each other, and he had noticed that Brennan seemed slightly more approachable, but he didn't dwell on it—particularly after Brennan seemed to draw further and further away from him. At first, he chalked it up to adjustments and changes, but after awhile, he came to the conclusion that she had decided that she didn't want anything but a professional relationship with him because she didn't care about him as much as he thought. Under his own scrutiny, Booth squirmed at the unkindness of his thoughts towards Brennan. It was unintentional, but he'd reduced her to the ice queen that strangers always called her.

Now it came to light that she'd done it out of love, and Booth hated himself even more for his treatment of her. His lack of action had convinced her that his feelings for her were truly gone, so she had no intention of changing her mind. Now, he gone and screwed up again, and the last words he spoke to Brennan were angry and confusing. Regret plagued him every night he thought about her, and he wondered how to fix it.

The meeting with Jackson was brief—he hadn't gathered much information—and he began devising a plan for a fake girlfriend. Finally, after brainstorming ideas for 20 minutes, Jackson gave him a pitying look.

"I hate to say it man, but I think you're just going to have to find a girl that you can spend time with on a casual, irregular basis and do what you gotta to keep her interested." Booth's stomach churned in protest again. He may have dated Hannah, but he hadn't slept with anyone since her, and the thought of finding a woman to use went against all of his instincts. And beginning a relationship of any kind while things with Brennan were still unresolved made him uncomfortable and guilty. There was no choice, though.

He released a sigh, wondering how much this mission was going to cost him. Guilt and shame over senseless killing, guilt and shame over sex that he didn't really want to have. He looked up at Jackson, shrugging his shoulders helplessly.

"I guess I might as well get a move on then. Gotta go find a girl." Jackson smiled half-heartedly at him, and Booth knew he had the man's pity. Jackson was a good guy, and Booth could see the two of them being friends—if he ever wanted to be constantly reminded of this hellish mission and everything that went along with it.

He rose and headed for the door, telling Jackson that he'd get in touch at the first possible opportunity.

A half an hour later, Booth was firmly seated on a barstool in a busy but small bar in a less tourist-ridden area of the city, looking for a woman that he could be interested. He'd already seen two or three blue-eyed brunettes and refused to consider them—it was too wrong on too many levels. For one, he never ever wanted to look at one woman and think of another. If he chose a woman that even slightly resembled Brennan, he would think of her every time he saw the other woman, which could get awkward. And when he returned to D.C., every time he looked at Brennan, he would be reminded of this.

He spotted a tall redhead watching him across the bar. He shot her a smile, and she sent one right back. He looked her over. Classy, a nice body, genuinely interested in him. She looked like the kind of woman who would be comfortable in any situation, which would come in handy if he ever had to introduce her to his "colleagues." He smiled at her again, and started towards her. She met him in the middle of the room, and he tilted his head towards the bar.

"Can I buy you a drink?" Her open smile was answer enough, and he forced himself to smile winningly at her, and oozed his natural charm.

Three Months After That

Booth walked out of Tenaglia's mansion, relaxing for the first time in four months. Fellow agents had just arrested Tenaglia, along with the other members of the groups that were in the house, and they'd collected more than enough evidence to convict every last one of them. Booth could finally go home. He had to debrief at the New Orleans field office, and tie up some loose ends, but then, he'd be on the first plane to D.C. He approached the agent in charge of everything, and waited patiently for an opportunity to interrupt. The man, an Agent Anderson that seemed as glad as Booth to be closing the case, finally turned to him.

"Ah, Agent Booth. Great work—we couldn't have done a lot of this without you." He paused for a moment, taking in the chaos around him. "Are you ready to report in so you can finally head home?" Booth swallowed nervously. The two men held the same position in the FBI, but the man was his boss, however temporarily, and Booth had almost no read on him.

"Actually, sir, I have a favor to ask." Anderson quirked an eyebrow at him, urging him on wordlessly. "See, I need to go, well, dump someone." A disbelieving smile crossed Anderson's face, and Booth hurried on. "The woman I was seeing to get out of the house and report in—I really don't want to just disappear on her. I have no intention of continuing anything with her, but she's a nice person, and deserves some kind of explanation." He finished, waiting for Anderson to respond, anxiety eating at his stomach. Nothing about this situation was pleasant for Booth. To his surprise, Anderson chuckled.

"I've heard about you, Booth. What a stand-up guy you are, how honorable and honest and all of that crap, but I didn't really believe it 'til now. But you had to fake a relationship undercover, and even now, you have to be the good guy. God, that's fantastic. At least now I know who to blame for giving the rest of us a bad name." Booth still waited for an answer, slightly perplexed by Anderson's reaction. The man was still laughing. "It's fine Booth. Honestly, I'm surprised you asked permission—I think you actually outrank me. We'll hold the meeting for two hours. That enough time?" Booth nodded quickly, calculating how much time he'd need to get across town without a car. But Anderson surprised him again. "Actually, take one of the company cars. We'll see you in a couple hours."

As Booth drove to Jackie's—the woman's—house, he thought of the best way to explain the situation without hurting her. He decided blunt honesty would be best, and hoped for a positive outcome.

She answered the door with a surprised smile, and leaned in to kiss him hello. He dodged the kiss, and blurted out—

"I'm leaving. Tonight." He winced, knowing that wasn't the best move, but kept his gaze steady on hers. Her groomed eyebrows rose in surprise and expectation, and Booth rushed on.

"The thing is, I'm an FBI agent. I've been undercover for the last four months, and you sort or became part of my cover." Jackie's eyebrows rose even higher, and an indignant look emerged on her face, but Booth didn't stop. "I do like you, and I enjoyed our relationship. I don't want you to get the wrong idea about that. It's just, well, the only way the people I was undercover to investigate would let me have alone time was if I had a girlfriend. So I got one." Booth took a breath, and waited for Jackie to speak. She stared at him for a minute, and he could tell that while she was still upset, she was not nearly as upset as she probably should have been.

"So, those secretive calls you were always making…"

"They were to my handler. With you was the only time I could update him."

"Well, I am surprised at the fact that you're an FBI agent, but it's no surprise that you're breaking up with me. You were barely in this relationship to begin with." There was a wry sort of resignation to Jackie's words, and Booth began to respond, but she held up her hand, silencing him. "No, Johnny, it's okay. Now I understand. Regardless of anything else, you aren't terribly attached to me because you knew this was a temporary situation. Also, you're in love with someone else." Booth's mouth dropped open in shock, and he sputtered for a moment, while Jackie stared at him with amusement. He finally found his voice.

"Jackie, I was distant because it was temporary, but there's no one else." A deprecating smile crossed his face. "I wouldn't cheat, even in this sort of situation." A jolt of guilt shot through him with a traitorous thought of Brennan. Jackie just smiled at him knowingly.

"Yes, there is. It's okay, Johnny. You've got a whole life back…where ever it is you came from, and I would bet money that there's a woman there, too. Let's just say our goodbyes, and call it good fun—that ended." Booth didn't respond right away, and Jackie smirked at him. "Okay, well then. Goodbye." She shut the door before Booth got to answer, and he knew that the resounding thud of the door was a little harder than normal, and a part of him felt guilty that she had been upset, but most of him was just happy that he could leave—go home.

Once he got there, he would figure out this thing with Brennan, fix all the mistakes he'd made—_if she'd allow him to_—and hope that everything would get back to normal. Eager to finish up the reports and paperwork, Booth jumped in the car and drove—probably faster than advisable—to the field office.

* * *

"_Can miles truly separate you from friends... If you want to be with someone you love, aren't you already there?__" -Richard Bach_


	3. Chapter 3

AN: Sorry it took me so long to update. Real life is kind of kicking my butt lately, and I've been alternating between too busy and too tired to write. However, I hope that this chapter more than makes up for it.

As always, any mistakes are my own. Also, I'd like to thank meclone2, who discovered a rather embarassing mistake in Chapter 2. I had Booth's undercover gf calling him by his real name. Anyway, I've fixed it now, but a big thanks for catching it.

* * *

"_And this ain't no place for the weary kind__  
__And this ain't no place to lose your mind__  
__And this ain't no place to fall behind__  
__Pick up your crazy heart and give it one more try."  
-The Weary Kind, Ryan Bingham_

Angela was leaning against one of the tables at Jack's workstation when she saw Booth enter the lab. It had been just over four months since she'd seen him last, and she'd heard about the little blowout he'd had with Brennan just before he ran off—again. She narrowed her eyes at him as he saw her and Hodgins and headed toward them.

Booth raised his hand in greeting, ignoring the stink-eye he was getting from Angela. He wasn't a complete idiot, and knew that even if Brennan had not told Angela, Cam would have. He called ahead in greeting, and the look only intensified.

"Hey, Hodgins, Angela. How's life?" Hodgins' head whipped up, and a smile crossed his face before he looked like he remembered something and hazarded a glance towards his wife. Giving an internal and external wince, Hodgins recognized the look on Angela's face, and hoped that Booth read its less-than-friendly meaning as well as he did. Angela was still pissed at Booth, regardless of anyone else's feelings.

"Hey, man. How was…wherever you've been?" Hodgins' reply was tentative, still wary of the looks Angela was sending towards Booth, and concerned about receiving the same looks. Booth didn't break the eye contact that he'd made with Angela when he replied.

"Oh, you know. Criminals, violence, intrigue. It had all the hallmarks of a great undercover mission." Booth's voice was deadpan and unamused, but as he spoke, Hodgins looked towards Angela and noticed that her eyes had softened towards the man in front of them.

Booth looked around nervously, assuming that he wasn't the favorite person of several people in the lab. As he opened his mouth to continue, Cam's voice interrupted.

"Hodgins, do you have the report on those particulates from—" Her voice stopped abruptly as she realized that Booth was there. She opened and closed her mouth a few times, and the look on her face told Booth that she was trying to decide whether to welcome him or yell at him. Finally, her lips set into a thin line, and she nodded once at him. "Seeley."

Booth sighed exhaustedly. He knew that after that last little blow-up with Brennan— to which Cam had been an unfortunate witness—that Cam would not be terribly happy to see him. With very good reason. He was completely, painfully, acutely aware that the female contingent of the Medico-Legal Lab staff would be firmly set against forgiving him until he earned it—and he guessed that was completely fair. He actually assumed that Hodgins would be pretty upset with him too. Though it was a little strange to think about, Hodgins was fiercely protective of all the women he was close to, and that included Brennan. So he guessed the bug-man was cutting him a little slack.

"Hey, Cam." One manicured eyebrow rose in surprise at him not rising to her bait, and the line of her lips thickened a little. Giving another sigh, Booth addressed all three of them. "Look, I know I'm not exactly your favorite person right now, and I am extremely sorry about what happened before." Three impassive faces stared at him, and he continued. "I am going to fix it. I swear. But could you all cut me a little slack in the meantime. We all make mistakes. Especially me. If I'm going to get Brennan to forgive me, I at least need you guys to not be against me." Cam's smile was tiny, but he knew her well enough to see it, and Angela was looking more pitying than angry. Hodgins was harder to read, but he could tell that the man mostly felt sorry for him. "At the very least, don't fight against me. Be as angry as you want, but I'd really appreciate you leaving our…issues…to the two of us. Unless Brennan asks for advice, can you just, not give it to her or something?" Hodgins face transformed into an amused if indignant mask.

"Man, Dr. B doesn't ask for advice anymore. She never really asked me or Cam, just Angela. But now she doesn't even do that. Not really. She just tells us what she's planning on doing and asks whether or not we think it's a good idea. But in the end she does what she wants anyway." His voice was incredulous at Booth's ignorance and Booth's heart fell a little farther than it already had in the past four months. He scrubbed a frustrated hand through his hair, thinking that if there was a way to mess up with Brennan, he had done it in the past year. He'd treated her altogether wrong, given up when he should have fought, fought when he should have capitulated, and ignored the changes that were so obvious to everyone else around. He leveled a look at the three people in front of him, not entirely sure what to do or say. When he spoke, his tone belied the frustration and failure that he felt.

"Okay. Well, I guess don't worry about then. I'll…" He ran his hand through his hair (for the third time, Angela and Cam both noted) and continued. "I'll go try and find Bones. See how things are." He jerked his head towards her office and asked "Is she in there?" hoping to get an answer from one of his friends. Cam recognized the look of defeat in Booth's eyes, and as much as she was angry at him, she hated to see him so hard on himself. In pity, she nodded, knowing that Booth and Brennan talking was the only way that the whole situation would get resolved. He trudged off, and the slow, measured steps told her more of his mindset than she could have guessed. Booth was a ball of energy—angry energy, upset energy, happy energy—and the only times that he was slow and lethargic were when he was sick or when he was very, very upset with himself. She was more than ready for the day that Booth and Brennan figured it all out.

* * *

Booth made his way to Brennan's office, and as he looked in through the open door, he saw a dark haired man, of above average height and very fit standing close to Brennan. Her face was partly hidden because of their proximity, and Booth found himself conflicted. There was a large part of him that wanted to grab the man and pull him away from Brennan, and another part of him that had nearly lost the will—he deserved to have had her move on to someone new. Instead of doing anything, he froze just outside the door, unable to move. He knew that if Brennan did have someone in her life now, having to witness her happiness with that someone was a deserved punishment. He could not, however, tamp down the hope that Brennan would shove the man away without a thought, and when Brennan's strident tones carried across the room and out the door, that hope flared a little more.

"Dr. Lansing, as flattering as your overtures are, as I have told you before, I am uninterested in any kind of relationship with you that extends beyond the professional. I admit that you are reasonably attractive, and quite intelligent. However, while that may have swayed me in the past to engage in a fleeting sexual relationship with you, I am no longer willing or able to consider such a relationship." Booth knew that Brennan was annoyed but not angry, and he hoped that the man would back off gracefully. If this Dr. Lansing worked at the Institute and gave Brennan a hard time, it would make the doctor's life exponentially harder. And really, Booth considered begrudgingly, the man couldn't be blamed for being interested in Brennan. A male voice drew him back to the room, and as he looked, the man stepped back several paces. Booth realized that he hadn't been standing quite as close as originally assumed, and internally breathed a sigh of relief.

"Of course, Dr. Brennan. I apologize if I made you uncomfortable." There was a pause where Booth saw Brennan give a nod of acknowledgement, and then Lansing continued. "May I ask a question regarding your personal life, Dr. Brennan?" Again, a short nod gave the man permission to continue, and he barreled forward.

"Though I haven't been with the Jeffersonian for very long, I have already been made privy to gossip—particularly about you." Booth's hackles raised immediately, despite the man's casual and unassuming tone. Apparently, Brennan's did as well, because Lansing continued quickly. "What I mean is the rumors and facts about you and your partner, Agent Booth. From overhearing Ms. Montenegro and Dr. Saroyan, I picked up two pieces of information that seem to be incongruous to me. The first is that you love Booth, and he loves you. Which, I suppose may be true or false. I can't know for sure. But the other thing that I've heard seems much more sure, and that is that he treated you in an unpardonable manner before he left, and that he may not deserve forgiveness." He paused, and Booth wondered what else he could have to say. "I assume that the reason you have not returned my sentiments, regardless of your admitted attraction to me is because you do in fact love this other man. But if he treated you as terribly as the others say he did, why are you waiting for him? I don't really understand." Lansing seemed to be done, and Booth marveled at the fact that his speech did not seem to be driven by jealousy, spite, anger, or any other negative emotion, but by simple curiosity. Brennan's voice rang through the office, and her tone, while not unfriendly, indicated that she did not consider Lansing a friend.

"Dr. Lansing. I appreciate your concern, and I understand your curiosity. However, you are right in assuming that I love Booth. He may have said things that hurt me, but I cannot and will not change how I feel. What he's done to me is…well, not deserved, but I understand that when two people try to forge a relationship, they nearly always hurt one another. I will not let angry words said in the heat of the moment ruin the on—" she broke off, cleared her throat, and continued. "This. It will not ruin this for us."

"Okay, Dr. Brennan. I will respect your wishes and refrain from soliciting your company outside of professional situations." Booth saw Lansing turn towards the door, and then pause. "However, if you find in the future that things with Agent Booth do not work out as you had hoped, my offer of company still stands." With that, he finally turned all the way to the door, and both occupants of the office finally noticed Booth. Lansing seemed surprised to see a man hulking in the door, but when Brennan's eye lit on him, Booth felt the shock and embarrassment that zinged through her from across the room.

"Booth!" Her shocked gasp and the uncomfortable look on her face quickly gave way to one of happiness. As she crossed the room to hug him in welcome, Lansing's eyes met his, and the scientist smiled in greeting. Booth nodded at him, relieved that the other man understood, and did not want to get in the way.

"What are you doing here Booth?" Brennan pulled back, and her eyes immediately found his, reading the lingering defeat mixed with the hope that her overheard words had given him. She frowned slightly at the combination, and Booth could see the other question in her eyes, but didn't answer right away.

"I'm back, Bones. I just finished making sure everything was in order at my office, and I thought I'd come see my partner." Brennan knew he was holding back, and she could see the fresh guilt that lurked under the joy in his posture and eyes, but also knew that her office with a majority of the lab observing was not the time to have that conversation. She was determined to keep their private conversations private in the future, to prevent everyone else (read: Angela, Cam, and Hodgins) from getting emotionally involved (read: unnecessarily angry with Booth). A throat clearing reminded them that Dr. Lansing was in the room still, and Brennan loosened her hold on Booth without completely pulling away. A slight red stained her cheeks, but she ignored it determinedly.

"I'm sorry. Booth, this is Dr. Alexander Lansing. The Jeffersonian took on another forensic anthropologist, in light of my active work with you and the FBI. Dr. Lansing handles most of the older identification cases now, and is able to consult on anything should I be unavailable at any time." She finally turned to Dr. Lansing. "Dr. Lansing, this is FBI Special Agent Seeley Booth, my partner and friend. Obviously, we work together on murder cases. He's been away on an undercover mission for the past four months." She paused, looking between the two men. Booth knew that she had to realize that he'd heard a lot of her explanation to Dr. Lansing, and he wondered if she was expecting some kind of pissing contest. _Not that she'd ever call it that,_ his internal voice snorted. Instead, and to her surprise, he stuck out his hand mildly.

"Nice to meet you, Dr. Lansing. I'd apologize for how much I'm going to monopolize Bones' time with our cases, but I guess that's why you've got a job here, huh?" His tone jovial, friendly, and unthreatening, Booth laughed internally at the raised eyebrow on Brennan's face. She expected him to act the lothario that he had in the past, and he was determined to behave like an adult and more importantly, treat Brennan the way she should. That included being friendly and civil to her colleagues. Dr. Lansing returned the handshake with a smile.

"It's nice to meet you too, Agent Booth. Although, I do hope that Dr. Brennan's time is not completely monopolized. She is an expert, and I relish the opportunity to learn from her experience and expertise."

"Well, we can't have a murder case all the time, so I'm sure you'll be able to learn from Bones. Hell, sometimes I think people can get smarter just being in the same room as her." Booth shook his head with a slight chuckle. "Then again, you're probably much closer to her intellectual level than most people—including me—are to begin with, so maybe it's different for you." Booth finished the sentence with a self-deprecating smile, and when he looked at Brennan, he was completely unprepared for the disturbed look on her face. "What's wrong, Bones?"

She gave him an inscrutable look.

"Why do you do that, Booth? You're very intelligent. Yes, maybe not as intelligent as me, given that I am a genius, but still, you're very smart. But you're constantly making yourself out to be something of an uneducated man." She paused, clearly waiting for an answer, and when Booth did not immediately provide one, she forged ahead. "Surely, you must know that I am aware that you have done graduate level work—it is, after all, a requirement for your position at work. You at least have a masters' degree in something, and perhaps a doctorate. Yet, you constantly defer to me on all intellectual matters. Why?" Booth gaped at her, unprepared for this confrontation. It was not at all what he was expecting.

"Uh, well, I guess it's because you are significantly smarter than me. Regardless of my education, you are a certifiable genius, and I'm just a guy that worked his ass off all the way through grad school to get acceptable grades." He looked away from her, and realized that Dr. Lansing had slipped away sometime during their conversation. Brennan fixed him with a look again, and he squirmed a little under her gaze.

"Will you tell me about your education, Booth? I… I'd like to know that about you." Her voice was softer than he expected, and Booth realized that she must have realized the moment Lansing escaped the room. He swallowed hard.

"Yeah, of course. Whatever you want to know, Bones." He met her gaze, waiting for her response, before a thought jarred him from their staring contest. "Do you…um, do you want to know right now?" He asked a little desperately, hoping to just get an answer out of her.

"If you have the time."

"Yeah, sure. It's not really a long story. While I was in the army, I decided that when I got out, I wanted to join the FBI. So between my deployments, I took night classes to get my masters in criminal justice. I thought about law school, but decided against it. The only way to really justify law school was to become a lawyer, and that wasn't what I wanted. Anyway, by the time I got discharged, I only had to finish my dissertation. I took a few months to get it all right, submitted it to the committee, and finally got my masters. I applied for the job with the FBI about the same time, so here I am."

"I am very glad that you are here, Booth. Thank you for sharing that with me." Brennan looked up at him, and he saw the emotion in her eyes. He leaned toward her nearly imperceptibly, and reached to brush the hair from her face.

"Bones, we need to talk." His voice was huskier than he wanted, and the moment felt almost too intimate. Booth could see her throat work as she swallowed, and he felt a moment of gladness at the thought that she was as affected by his presence as he was by hers. She nodded, her eyes ever leaving his. "I'm have Parker tonight, but he's leaving for a vacation with Rebecca tomorrow morning. So how about tomorrow night?" Booth could see her eyes cloud over when he mentioned Parker, and he was confused. "What's the matter, Bones?"

"I'm just sorry that you haven't seen Parker for so long and now that you're back, he's leaving." Booth's eyes softened at her words, wondering at how much she cared for him and what he did to deserve it. _Nothing. Not a damn thing_. His internal voice was relentless, but he steadfastly ignored it.

"Oh, Bones. Thank you for being concerned about it, but Rebecca and I talked about it, and she's had the tickets for close to a year. They're non-refundable, and Parker's excited about the trip. It's okay." He gave her a winning smile, hoping to cover the emotions in his eyes, but the knowing look in her own made him aware that he had not been successful. Regardless, she smiled back at him uncertainly.

"I agree that we need to talk. Tomorrow night seems like it will be ideal. I should be finished with my work around 6:30 tomorrow evening. Would you like to meet at my house or at yours?" At the slightly surprised look on Booth's face, Brennan rolled her eyes. "Yes, I will be done that early. You know, I am able and willing to keep my work within normal working hours provided there isn't an urgent need for me to be here." Booth started out of his surprise, and flushed with another wave of guilt at the reproach and censure in Brennan's tone. _Of course she is capable. She probably wasn't as much of a workaholic before the murder cases and the FBI, you idiot. Also, she hasn't had anyone to look after her for the better part of a year and she's certainly doing just fine, isn't she?_ Booth looked at her, hoping to catch a glimpse of…something, but couldn't and answered instead.

"Of course, Bones. I know that." His mind whizzed through her original question, and he winced at the state of his apartment. "How about we meet at your house? I can bring some take-out. My place is pretty musty after having been empty all these months." _Plus this way, there's the added bonus of having you extra-comfortable._ Brennan nodded in agreement, and turned toward her desk.

"Okay, Booth. I'll see you tomorrow at—what? Seven o'clock?"

"Sounds great, Bones. I'll see you then." With a final nod in his direction, Brennan turned to her computer. As he left the office, Booth marveled that he had never felt so much like he'd been dismissed from her presence before. Not even in the early years.

Lost in thought, Booth failed to notice Angela standing in his way, and nearly bowled right into her. He looked up at her, and though the look in her eyes was far less hostile than before, it still clearly communicated that she was less than happy with him. He stopped and looked at her expectantly. She did not let him down.

"Booth. We need to talk."

"I know." She turned and headed for her office, and Booth followed behind her, still keeping that slow, defeated pace.

* * *

"Close the door, will you? And make sure it's all the way closed. I don't want any unwanted ears listening to this conversation." Angela's voice was almost flat and devoid of the usual teasing and texture. Booth meekly closed the door behind him, and walked forward to where Angela was sitting on her chair. He took a seat on the couch opposite, waiting for her to start.

"Here's the thing Booth. I like you. We're friends. And I know that you finally figured a few things out. But I still have to have this talk with you."

"I know, Ange. I get it."

"What the hell were you thinking?" The vehemence in Angela's voice startled Booth because of its contrast with her former calmness. He looked at her uncertainly.

"About what?" The look of her face made him aware that he had asked the wrong question, and he closed his eyes, waiting for the diatribe. He wasn't disappointed.

"About what? I don't even know where to start! Wait, yes I do. Let's go back to when you made the first big mistake. You know better than to push and rush her, Booth but you did anyway. You didn't give her any time to think—you **know** she needs that. And then, when you didn't get the answer you wanted you gave up! What the hell? Do you know what that said to her?" Angela paused, and it occurred to Booth that she actually wanted an answer.

"I don't know, okay Ange? I realized that it was too much, too soon, and I thought if I backed off, it might get better, you know? If I took the pressure off, she would relax, maybe reconsider." Angela looked at him incredulously.

"Then what was all the crap about moving on? You know, first you didn't say 'Brennan, I love you and I'd really like to have a monogamous relationship with you because I feel that it is worth the risk'…or you know, Booth-speak for that that included the words **I love you**. Then, you agree with her that she doesn't have an open heart and can't change. Then, as if that isn't enough of a clusterfuck as it is, you tell her that you're going to move on. Not a good job, Booth. Basically telling her that she just isn't worth it. Oh, and agreeing that she would only hurt you—that was a total winner. Because she didn't have enough problems with that already." Booth gaped at her, his mind running through the night again. He started to argue, and then deflated visibly.

"Shit." Angela waited for further elaboration, but Booth just sat there staring at his shoes. His head sunk to his hands, and it looked like he was digging his fingernails into his scalp.

"That's really all you have to say, Booth? Seriously?" When he looked up at her, Angela gasped at the naked despair in his eyes. He blinked, and it cleared a little.

"I guess… well, there's not really anything else I can say, you know? I mean, yeah, I was hurting, and when I said she was right, I didn't mean any of that. I meant that… well, I don't know. I just couldn't listen to her put both of us down anymore, and agreeing with her is always the fastest way to make her stop talking." His head had sunk down again, and Angela was about to light into him again when he continued and looked up at her with those haunted eyes again.

"It's just—my heart was breaking. She pushed me away, Ange. Physically shoved me away from her, and all I could hear was that she didn't want me. I know I don't deserve her—I really do. But in that moment, I was thinking 'Here I've been, for six years, in love with this woman. Really, really in love with her. And just like everyone else, I'm not quite good enough for her.' Angela, you know I would do anything for Bones. I would die for her. But every word was more pain, more rejection. I just wanted it to stop. And for once, I didn't think about her feelings." He let out a scoff, and Angela flinched at the glassy surface his eyes, blanching at the thought that Booth was about to cry in front of her. "It figures. The one time I don't put her first is the time that it mattered most." He sat quietly after finishing, and Angela thought that maybe she'd been too hard on him initially. She moved over to the couch to sit next to him, and put her hand on his shoulder. She opened her mouth to speak, but didn't quite know what else to say. Deciding that continuing was the best bet, she made her voice significantly more soothing.

"I still don't understand, Booth. Why did you tell her that you had to move on?" His eyes slid towards her, then back towards the ground.

"I guess I figured that if she didn't want me after all that time, after everything that I had done and would do for her, she really must know that I wasn't worth it. I figured that I couldn't wait around for someone who would never want me." He paused, and when he started again, his voice was smaller, and carried painful shame in it. "I think I also wanted to hurt her." He pulled his arm away from Angela's and scooted down the couch. "Oh, god. I am a terrible person." After a few breaths, he continued. "It was the mean, petty part of me. She had just destroyed me, and I wanted her to know that if she wouldn't have me romantically, then she'd have to adjust to someone else having me." He looked up at Angela.

"I'd been waiting for her since Cam, Ange." Angela started, and began to respond, but he cut her off. "After everything with Epps, I was ashamed that I had been more scared when Bones was potentially in danger than when Cam was practically on her deathbed. The second I realized that, I knew that I couldn't fairly enter into any kind of relationship with another woman. But then, I still thought I could get over her. Six months later, I knew I never would." He sighed. "I guess that night, I wanted to stop being the man who pined after someone. I'd never been him before, and I didn't much care for it." Angela just stared at him, and he sighed again, waiting for her to find her words. Finally, she did.

"Wow, Booth. I'm sorry that you went through that. I never gave you credit for how well you compartmentalize." He shot her a bemused look. "You seemed fine, if a touch uncomfortable the next few times I saw you, and then you were mostly the same. At least until the Gravedigger trial."

"I told her we could work together. And I knew that she was having trouble packing away her emotions, even if she wouldn't admit it. The next time I saw her after that, she kept giving me these careful, concerned looks, like I would freak out or something at the slightest trigger." He laughed humorlessly. "They're the same kind of looks people give newly returned soldiers when they're afraid of PTSD. I knew that if I didn't pack it in, there would be more problems. I never realized what exactly I had done to her, or else I would have acted differently."

"I am sorry, Booth. I knew you were probably hurt, but I never figured out how much. But why everything after the Gravedigger? Why did you leave too?" Booth gave a half-smile at her determination to keep the conversation on the same track it started—albeit, less angry.

"I couldn't stay here without her. And both of us had tried the dating thing here." He looked over at Angela again, a slightly amused look on his face. "Do you have any idea how hard it is to move on when you spend your days with the woman that you're stupid in love with? Or when you go to all the places that you go together all the time? Ange, almost all the places that meant anything to me, I shared with Bones. And a good chunk of the rest of them were places that we discovered together. I just couldn't face it." Angela nodded, understanding a little more.

"You really thought she wasn't terribly concerned with your romantic feelings."

"No, I knew she was concerned about me, and that she wanted to make sure that I was okay." Angela sighed.

"That's not what I meant. You didn't realize when she accepted the Maluku appointment that she was trying to figure things out."

"No, I didn't. I only realized that about four months ago."

"Okay. I guess if you were just being an oblivious man, it's not excusable or okay, but it's a little more understandable." Angela paused, and when she started again, her voice was flinty. Booth knew that the next subject would be even more painful.

"Please explain Hannah." He let out a short laugh at her forthrightness and took yet another deep breath.

"She helped me in the desert, Angela. I know that you don't want to hear it, but it's true. She was hopeful and happy when everyone else was broken—mostly because they were tired of war and fighting, and violence. But I was heartbroken, and I was lost. Hannah got to know me, and she asked about it. She knew all about Bones before we started anything romantic. We would just talk, and she made me feel better." Angela nodded, encouraging him to go on.

"Then one day, I got word that one of the guys I'd trained was KIA. I took it pretty badly, and when Hannah tried to comfort me, we ended up in bed. Afterwards, I thought about the fact that she seemed to really care about me—which she did—and I eventually managed to convince both of us that I was in love with her." He looked away, his jaw tight. "I wish I'd realized how many people I was lying to then, and how much it was going to hurt later, but I didn't. When I came home and she followed, we tried to make it work. But life here is different than life there, and our relationship was too. Eventually, we decided that we should stop while we still had good memories."

"And after that? All the other women?" Angela's voice still had that flinty edge to it, and Booth smiled internally at her protective nature.

"I was still convinced that I was moving on. I'd had a relationship that I viewed as a success, even though it ended, and I was blind enough to think that I would be able to find another one that might last. Not my brightest idea, but then again, I never was the smartest kid in class." Booth's smile was self-deprecating, and Angela grimaced in return. "Look, Angela. I know I deserved to have a new one ripped, and Bones sure as hell wasn't going to do it. But I know the things I've been doing wrong, and if she'll let me, I'm going to do my best to fix it. I hope you believe me, but even if you don't, I've already arranged to have a conversation with Bones tomorrow night." At Angela's look, Booth rolled his eyes and explained. "Yes, tomorrow night instead of tonight. I haven't seen or talked to my son in four months. In the past eighteen months, I've been gone for eleven. Brennan understood that when I told her, and I expect you to as well." He stood from his chair, jerking his thumb towards the door. "Speaking of, I'm supposed to pick Parker up in 45 minutes. I need to go." He walked toward the door, and with his hand on the knob, he turned back to Angela. "Thank you for caring about her so much." Then, he left. Angela sat there, processing everything Booth had told, and decided that while her ire was not misplaced, it was certainly too harsh. A noise at her door startled her into awareness, and she look up to see Brennan hovering under the frame.

"Are you okay, Angela? You look like there's something wrong." Angela blinked quickly, clearing her face of it's previous expression, hoping that Brennan was unaware of her conversation with Booth.

"No, sweetie, I'm fine. Is everything okay with you? Did you want to talk about something?" Brennan straightened up.

"Actually, yes. I would appreciate it if you did not intervene in mine and Booth's emotional issues. Judging by the fact that Booth just left and he hasn't been in my office for almost a half hour, I am too late to forestall any action on your part. I just want to tell you not to be too hard on him, and if you already have, please apologize. You do not have all the information, and I do not want to make the situation any more untenable for him that it already must be." Brennan blanched when Angela's eyes began to tear.

"Oh, Bren. I'm sorry I got involved. I really shouldn't have." She took a deep breath, trying to get her emotions under control.

"I wish you wouldn't sometimes, but I know you always mean well." Angela gave her a hesitant look.

"I know I should stay out of, but sweetie, I don't think any of us realized just how much he loves you. Or how he's been feeling for the past year and a half." Brennan fixed her with an unreadable gaze before turning back to watch the lab doors.

"Loved, Angela. It's the past now. But neither of your statements are true." She tore her eyes from the door back towards Angela. The emotion in the clear blue almost made Angela take a step back. "I did. For years, I knew."

"_Love me when I least deserve it, because that's when I really need it." –Swedish proverb_


	4. Chapter 4

AN: This chapter clocked in at nearly 8,000 words! Wow. Even I wasn't expecting it to be that long. It's the all-important conversation this time, and I hope that everyone enjoys. It's actually not my favorite chapter-I struggled with it being not emotional enough and too emotional at the same time. One thing that I struggled with was the use of the big L-word. I know most people think that Brennan in particular would be reluctant to say it all the time, and I agree to a certain extent. But I also think that once she commits to something, she really gives it her all, and she is dauntless. Please keep that in mind as you read.

So settle in for something of a marathon.

Thanks to everyone who reviewed the previous chapters-it does mean a lot to me.

One last thing: I don't really do song-fics, or anything like that. But while I was proofing this, my pandora station played a beautiful song that I felt sort of went with this chapter. If you are so inclined, it's called _Christofori's Dream_ and it's by the brilliant pianist David Lanz. It's on youtube.

* * *

_"Guess I did what I did believing  
That love is a dangerous thing  
Oh but that couldn't hurt anymore than never knowing."  
-A Home, _Dixie Chicks

* * *

The next night, Brennan finished her work even earlier than she had anticipated. At five forty-seven, she finished typing the file she was working on, saved the document and sent it on to the appropriate people. She packed up her things, and by five fifty, she was leaving the Jeffersonian.

Driving home, it dawned on Brennan that she had been thinking about Booth all day, and their upcoming conversation. It had not been conscious, but there had been a thought in the back of her mind all day—almost a worry about the evening.

She arrived at home and poured herself a glass of wine, hoping to calm her nerves before Booth arrived. She thought back over the past few months without him—really, the past eighteen months. It had been that long since Brennan had really **had** Booth around. Since that one unfortunate night, she had not had his presence the way that she was used to, and she wasn't sure that was going to change any time soon.

Despite their explosive conversation before Booth's departure, and the things that they both said, Brennan was completely convinced that Booth was still determined to move on from her. The thought came to her that she may have to do something even more drastic than limit their relationship to the professional. The idea of leaving the home she'd built in Washington D.C. brought a strong pang of sadness, but she decided that, depending on how their conversation went that night, if Booth expressed more unhappiness with their relationship or her behavior, she would quietly begin looking into a move. She received job offers from other institutions almost weekly, so that would not be the hard part.

Brennan shook off these thoughts. It may be a possibility, but Brennan knew that leaving would be her very last resort—she really did want to fix and maintain her friendship with Booth. She wanted him in her life, and because of her own mistakes, she could only ever have him as a friend, so she had to fix it. Her thoughts wandered back to a conversation that she'd had with Cam just week or so after Booth had left.

_A soft knock on her door brought Brennan's attention from her computer screen._

"_Dr. Brennan? Can I come in?" Cam had been hesitant and unsure, and Brennan wrinkled her brow in confusion._

"_Of course, Cam. Is there anything that you needed?" There was a beat of silence where Cam seemed to look even more uncomfortable before she spoke._

"_Well, sort of. Look, I know we don't really have this kind of relationship, but I also know that you are reluctant to bring Angela into the issue. So, if you ever want to talk about Booth—or rather, what happened right before he left—I just wanted to tell you that I'm willing to listen." Brennan stared at her, unprepared for a conversation like this and Com began to squirm. "That's really all. I guess you don't or…whatever. I'll go now."_

"_Cam, wait." Cam stopped halfway through the door, and turned back towards Brennan with a look that was somewhere between expectant and wary. "I believe that I would benefit from discussing this conversation with you, as you are less inclined to bouts of whimsy and fantasy than Angela. I have very few close friends, and I would like to air my concerns about Booth. If you really are willing, that is."_

"_Certainly, Dr. Brennan. That's why I offered." Brennan breathed a sigh of relief, and gestured Cam all the way into the room._

"_Can you shut the door behind you?" Brennan gave a wry smile. "I would like to keep this private, and there are those in the lab that have exceptionally good hearing." Cam closed the door firmly behind her, and took a seat in the chair across from Brennan's. She leaned forward, waiting for Brennan to start talking. She was not disappointed._

"_I find myself conflicted, Cam. I know how I feel, and I am very nearly certain about how Booth feels. But in light of our little confrontation, I am not sure what the plausibility of repairing our friendship is." Cam smiled internally—even when freaking out, Brennan was still classically Brennan._

"_What do you mean?"_

"_Well, I'm not sure exactly how much of that conversation you heard, but it seems that Booth blames me to a certain extent for his unhappiness. I suppose that is fair—I made decisions for both of us that I believed to be right—and he does not deal well with either being out of control or with change. And I believe that if it were just that issue, we would easily be able to correct the problem. However, I think that I gave up more of my own feelings on the matter of he and I than I had intended to, and Booth sometimes has a hard time compartmentalizing his emotions. I worry that he will struggle with the things that I told him." Cam let out a small laugh, and instantly looked contrite. Brennan gave her a sharp, inquiring look._

"_I'm sorry, Brennan. I don't mean to insult you. It's just—I think you are one of maybe three things that Booth does have trouble compartmentalizing. All the time. That calmness that you take for compartmentalization, that's really him acting. He pretends everything is okay when he can't figure things out, but that doesn't mean he's not constantly worrying and thinking about it. That's all." _

"_Oh." The look on Brennan's face almost made her want to laugh again, until it cleared and sadness replaced it. "I think you are mistaken, Cam. It may have been like that in the past, but he has very little trouble not thinking about me recently. His former regard for my feelings is significantly decreased since we both left." There was a long pause where both women considered that idea, before Cam shook her head vigorously._

"_No, Brennan, I really don't think that's true. I honestly think he still cares about you as much as he did before."_

"_No he doesn't, Cam. He used to love me." Brennan looked up at Cam, and the two women shared a look—filled with despair on Brennan's end, and with helplessness on Cam's. "He doesn't anymore. He still cares for me as his partner, I think, but the way he used to love me—that's gone. He told me he had to move on, and he is. And I cannot ruin that for him. I can't get in the way, regardless of my own feelings." _

_Cam took a deep breath at Brennan's words. She never realized that Brennan knew about Booth's feelings, and the stark sadness that laced Brennan's words made her want to cry. Her inner romantic was rebelling at the thought of these two missing each other._

"_I have two questions, Brennan. What is all of this about him moving on? And what exactly are your feelings?" Brennan gave her a strange look, measuring almost, before answering._

"_Roughly six weeks before our last case and respective departures, Booth and I met with Sweets to discuss his book. That night, after we left Sweets' office, Booth stopped me. Because of the memories of our first case together, and Sweets' urging, he decided that right then would be the optimal time to inform me of his desire to attempt a romantic relationship with me. I was scared—terrified, really—at the thought of losing or hurting him. I told him that I didn't have the sort of heart that could love like him, and that I couldn't change. After I pushed him away, argued with him, he agreed with me, and then told me that he had to move on and find someone who could." She paused, letting Cam take in all the information._

"_Well, you both kind of screwed up there, didn't you?" Brennan smiled at her, a sad smile, but one that acknowledged the truth._

"_Yes, we did. I, as Angela would say, freaked out, and he didn't give me time to adjust."_

"_What about my other question, Brennan?"_

"_My feelings for Booth have not been a question for me for a very long time. I love him. I loved him that night, and I loved him the whole time I was in Maluku, and I even loved him while I watched him love someone else. I still do love him. I'm beginning to believe that I always will, and I've mostly made my peace with that fact—and with the fact that I will likely never have more than our partnership. I can live with that and be content." _

_Cam's heart was breaking for the calm, controlled woman sitting in front of her. Here was a woman that professed not to believe in love at every turn, but willingly admitted her own love for a man that she was convinced she would never have._

"_You're wrong Brennan. I don't care what he said to you that night, or that he brought back some tart from Afghanistan, or that he's been chasing everything with a skirt since they broke up. I heard the way he was yelling at you before he left. It's counterintuitive, but a man only gets that angry at a woman that he really loves. Maybe that's not what you want to hear, but I think it's the truth. When he gets back, I'd be willing to bet that he wants to fix things, get them right again." Brennan shook her head vigorously._

"_No, Cam. He doesn't feel that way about me anymore. And even if he thinks he does, I can't let him regress. He was making progress. I will only hurt him. The things that he said when we argued solidified that for me. I may have considered trying a relationship with him while I was in Maluku, but the amount that I was able to hurt him even when he was happily involved in a relationship makes that impossible now. It can't happen. I won't let him fall back in love with me just to break him later. I won't do it." Cam shook her head at the other woman's stubbornness._

"_Dr. Brennan, I know how stubborn you are. But I want to say one more thing before I go. Both of you hurt each other—a lot. You probably broke his heart, and then he did the same thing to you. And some of those things that he said the last time he was here were pretty bad. But don't make decisions for the both of you again. Let him into your thought processes, your feelings. He's not been the same for awhile, and I really hope that when he gets back, you two will manage to fix this mess. But you have to do it together, listen to each other, and make your decisions together. He still loves you as much as you love him. Give it a chance, Brennan." With that, Cam got up and started for the door, not looking back because she'd seen the sheen of tears in Brennan's eyes, and had no desire to watch them fall if they were going to._

Brennan shook herself out of the memory. She still didn't believe that Booth loved her anymore, but she acknowledged that half of this mess was because somewhere along the way, the two of them stopped communicating. So, tonight, she hoped to rectify that. She had trouble tamping down the spark of hope that Cam had been right, but refused to let it flare.

The past months had been hard. She thought that her separation from Booth during the dig was painful, but it was exponentially more painful to not have him around in the places that she was accustomed to seeing him. The pain only strengthened her resolve to salvage something of their friendship.

A knock on her front door startled her from her musings, and she slowly headed toward the door, taking a deep breath before opening it to Booth's tentative smile.

* * *

"Hey, Bones. How're you doing?" Booth's smile was tentative, but easy at the same time, and the familiarity of the whole situation quieted much of the uneasiness in her stomach.

"Booth, come on in." She opened the door wider and took a step back, making room for Booth to enter the apartment. As she followed him back into her living room, she caught the deep breath that made Booth's shoulders rise. The thought that he might be as nervous as she was provided her with even more comfort in the face of her uncertainty and unease. He immediately turned towards her kitchen to put down the take-out he'd brought. And when he turned around, he was surprised to see her staring at him with an unreadable look on her face from the middle of the living room.

"Hey, Bones, what's up? You okay?" She shook her head, seeming to clear her head, and then shot him a baleful look.

"Actually, Booth, I find myself unaccountably apprehensive about the conversation that we are soon going to engage in. I realize that it is illogical, in that we speak frequently, but I can't seem to repress my emotions." Booth chuffed out a short laugh, shocked at her forthrightness, and then another when he realized that he should not be shocked with her bluntness. A pang of sadness swept through him when he realized that the single statement from Brennan was more emotional insight into her than he'd had for more than a year. The thought made him even more anxious to get started on his apologies. His smile slid off his face rapidly, and he began to speak.

"Oh, Bones. I understand. I really do. And you have every reason to be concerned." He broke off, and ran a frustrated hand through his hair. "After the way I treated you before, I'm surprised you even agreed to speak to me." He paused again. "Look, there's no excuse for the things I said. I never really gave you a chance to defend yourself, or explain. I just let you do what you wanted, and never actually approached you to see why you acted that way, and didn't talk about the fact that it hurt. I'm just, I'm so sorry that I hurt you like that. I can't apologize enough for the things I said. I hope you'll forgive me for treating you like that. And I am so sorry for accusing you of not caring about our friendship—I know that's not even close to true, and I regret ever saying such a thing. All of those terrible things I said about you—about your feelings, about your past—they are unforgivable."

His shoulders kept drooping as he talked, and the despair in his voice as he finished made Brennan instantly forgive him. She could sense his guilt and regret, and she felt relief at knowing that the possibility of the end of their friendship was equally upsetting to him. She knew that the dire measures she had briefly considered would be unnecessary. They would get their partnership back on track. She moved to sit next him where he had sunk down on her couch and laid her hand on his arm, much like Angela had done the day before.

"Booth, please, look at me." He shook his head and she pressed on his arm, tugging a little. "I know you're not going to believe me, but I forgive you." He just stared at her in response. "Seriously, Booth. I understand your emotions to a certain extent, and I understand that I provoked you and made you angry. It doesn't excuse the things you said, but I am still willing and able to forgive you." He continued to look at her, studying her for any hint of lie in her eyes, before he drew her to him a hard hug.

"God, Bones. What did I ever do to deserve you as a partner?" His words stung Brennan a little bit, seeming to confirm her belief that he was no longer interested in her romantically, but she returned the brief hug before pulling away.

"You are not as unworthy as you always tend to think, Booth. However, before we proceed from here, I would like to make something very clear to you." She fixed him with a stern look. "I have forgiven you for our argument, and I hope that you have begun to forgive me as well for the hurtful things I said and did. However, I will not tolerate similar behavior in the future, and I expect you to feel the same towards me." The look of confusion on his face spurred her to continue. "What I mean is that I will refrain from making partnership-altering decisions without seeking you input, and you will begin to come to me with your concerns regarding our partnership again. I don't want a lack of communication to be the cause of our problems." With a look, Brennan knew that Booth was having a similar thought to hers—namely, that communication was not the root of their problems. However, she brushed that idea off, determined that with apologies and understanding in the open, they could now continue their partnership more easily.

"Bones, thank you. I appreciate your forgiveness, and I'm shocked that you think you need to be forgiven. You did nothing, and I just went off on you." Her eyebrows knitted together in consternation.

"That is not accurate, Booth. Clearly, I did something to upset you, and your temper was a kind of retaliation for your emotional injury. I understand. I simply want us to be able to move past it." Booth sighed, admitting to himself that coercing her into admitting that she didn't need to be forgiven was just as hard as convincing himself of the same.

"Okay, Bones. You forgive me, I definitely forgive you. I swear before God that I will do my very best to never treat you that way again. Can we go on now?" She nodded easily.

"Yes. Let's have dinner, Booth. The food is getting cold." She got up and walked toward her kitchen, and Booth followed her, not expecting the abrupt change of subject. He had expected that they would talk about the other things that their conversation had dug up, but it seemed like she didn't want to. He resolved to get the whole thing well, resolved before the end of the night.

* * *

Dinner was largely silent, though very comfortable, and as they cleared away the trash from the table, Brennan paused and looked up at Booth.

"Booth? Can we go for a walk?" He looked at her, surprise etched on his face, and blinked.

"Um, sure. Is there anywhere in particular that you wanted to walk to?"

"Let's just walk around the neighborhood. Just for a little while, okay?" He nodded, and as soon as they finished the clean-up, they both put on their shoes and jackets against the fall chill and by tacit agreement, headed down Brennan's stairs.

They meandered around her neighborhood for close to an hour, each pointing out amusing or interesting sights. They talked and laughed just like they been accustomed to, and about forty-five minutes into the walk, Brennan realized with a sinking feeling that were she accompanied by any other man, she would consider this outing a date. The thought nearly made her panic, upset by the thought that she was once again, preventing Booth from moving on. There was no way he could forge a successful relationship with someone else when their time together could be viewed as dates. Booth noticed her sudden quiet, and he waited until they were back at Brennan's apartment, settling in with a beer each before saying anything.

"Bones? I'm not really sure what's going on inside that genius head of yours, but we still need to talk." She slowly turned her gaze to meet his, and the steadiness she saw there made her feel slightly more comfortable. This was _her_ Booth, steady, and reassuring.

"I know, Booth. I am simply trying to reconcile our activities tonight with some preconceived notions that I held." Booth simply stared her, not really understanding, but knowing that she only meant she was trying to figure something out.

"Okay, well, while you do that, do you mind if I talk?"

"Of course, not Booth. I am extremely adept at focusing on multiple subjects. However, if you'd like me to pay strict attention to you, I can also do that." Booth chuckled at the sheer Brennan-ness of the answer and nodded his head.

"I would actually like you to pay attention to me. I don't want this to get screwed up again, especially by something as simple as one of us not really hearing the other." Brennan gave him an uncertain look, not sure whether she liked the direction the conversation seemed to be taking. She had believed that he wanted to discuss her decisions to decrease their friendship and time together, but his tone suggested something even more…serious and dangerous, almost. Booth took a deep breath, and began talking.

"Here's the thing, Bones. I'm not really sure how to start this, so I'm just going to open with what I should have opened with before, all those months ago." A pause, and then Brennan's breath rushed out of her with a whoosh.

"I love you, Bones. I don't want you to change, and I never did. I think that you are completely capable of loving people with all your heart." He paused, gauging Brennan's response, and when she simply stared at him, flabbergasted, reached a hand out, not quite touching her. "Um, are you… well, okay, Bones? You still with me?" She gave a short nod, unable to say anything, and Booth decided to continue to try and finish before her protestations started.

"Look. I know that everything got royally screwed up last year—and it was mostly my fault." Her mouth opened, and he stopped her before she could interrupt. "I know, we both made mistakes, and I'll let you take your share of the blame, but I was the one that really screwed up. So let me explain." Brennan shut her mouth, and nodded in acquiescence. "I need to apologize for giving up so quickly that night on the steps, Bones. My not fighting for you, that must have been terrible for you to go through, and I don't know if I'll ever forgive myself for putting you through that." He looked over at her again, his eyes now carrying a guilt that was unrelated to any other, and she reached for his face, cupping his cheek in her hand.

"I don't want to make you feel bad or anything, Bones, but I was hurting too. In that moment, I would have agreed with anything you said to make you stop talking. Every word was awful—it hurt in a way that I've never been hurt before, and I hope that I never will again. All I was hearing was that you didn't want me—every sentence said the same thing, and I needed it to stop. I never meant to hurt you, and I barely knew what I was saying, much less agreed with it. God, Bones, please believe that if nothing else." Her hand slid down to his neck as she understood the subtext of his words—_I wasn't good enough for you_—and he dropped his head in his hands.

"Booth." Her voice was whisper-soft, like the touch of her hand on the nape of his neck, and he glanced up. The naked sadness in his eyes made Brennan's heart clench in a completely impossible way, and she opened her mouth to reassure him. "Booth, it's okay, really. I do understand." He looked up at her, and the hope in his eyes released the vice on her heart. "Are you finished?" He shook his head, and continued, calmer now.

"Everything that came after that was a reaction to the things we said, Bones. Catherine and then Afghanistan and Hannah—all of it. I agreed to date Catherine, not because I thought I could get past you, but because I needed to try—for both our sakes. If I didn't date anyone, because I was in love with you, but knew that you wouldn't return my feelings, I would have started to resent you. You would have felt like you were keeping me from being happy, and then you would have felt bad. I couldn't have that, so I decided that casual dating could work. Then there was the Gravedigger, and then you wanted to leave. I could put up a good front, pretend that everything was okay when you were around, but being here without you would have broken me. When you decided to go to Maluku, I decided that I might as well try and get some space from the situation. So I decided to go to Afghanistan." He paused, seeming to gather his courage from somewhere—a voice in his head softly suggested that it might be her hand resting gently on the back of his neck, offering comfort and reassurance.

"Then, after I got there, I met Hannah." He felt her tense, and hastened to continue the story. "We didn't immediately fall into bed. In fact, I had a hard time even considering actually having sex with anyone. But she and I became friends. She saw that I was broken down about something, and after a few weeks, I just told her the whole sad story. She knew about you long before anything romantic happened. She was just a bright spot in a very bleak place. Everyone else over there was just as broken as I was, except for her. She helped me, Bones, everyday." He looked up and met her eyes, surprised to see the tiniest of smile gracing her lips, juxtaposed with the glassy sheen of tears in her eyes. "Hey, what's wrong?"

"We'll get to me later, Booth. I'm just glad you found some measure of happiness over there. I will never begrudge you the happiness that Hannah brought you, ever." The vehemence in Brennan's voice caught Booth off guard, and he had to shake his head to continue the story.

"Then one day, I got word that one of the kids I'd trained had been killed on a mission. He'd gotten too close to a roadside bomb. It almost broke me. Corporal Johnson was barely twenty-two years old, he had a beautiful, equally young wife at home, and she was due with their first child any day. He was happy, bright, and always made me smile. The idea that something else—someone else—so beautiful had gone out of the world in the haze of an explosion almost brought me to my knees, and Hannah was there when I got the news. She was comforting me, and then her hugs turned into something more. Before I knew what had happened, we were together, and it was some kind of relationship."

"I wasn't sure about it, but I realized that she could make me smile, and laugh, and she was attractive. We could have built something amazing on that, and we tried. But even though I never really figured out why it wasn't working, we both realized that it wasn't and we called everything off." Booth cocked his head, and Brennan shoved the pain at hearing about another woman brutally back, knowing that she had to understand. "I wonder if it's because she always knew about you. Maybe she thought she could try to…I don't know, win my heart back, and help me be happy again. But I guess she realized it was a losing battle. I don't know." His shoulders dropped, defeat plain in them once again. "All the other women, Bones? They were just me trying to convince everyone that I wasn't pining." He took a deep breath, and looked up at her again. She was gazing steadily back at him, and he relished the fact that even now, in the face of an extremely emotional night, she was as unwavering as ever. That slight smile still touched her lips, and he found himself wanting to trace it with his fingers.

Brennan was conflicted. Half of her was terrified of the direction that Booth had forced this conversation, and the other half was absolutely elated with the direction that it had taken. In her most fantastical dreams, she had only imagined him wanting to continue their friendship. She never expected that he still loved her back, and she was eagerly anticipating informing him that his feelings were returned, once and for all. It was a chance that she never expected to get again.

"Booth, listen to me. I meant it when I said that do not and will not begrudge you the fact that you were happy with Hannah, or if you had been happy with any other woman. I want your happiness, Booth. You have to know, that's the thing that's been most important to me for years, and even more this past year and a half. If you're done, I want to apologize for my part, and explain myself."

"There is one more thing, but I… I'm not sure whether it's really that important right now." Brennan moved her hand from the join of his shoulder and neck, where it had been resting, to his forearm.

"Booth, if you are worried about it, it's probably important enough." The sincerity in her gaze reassured him that she would understand, and that she was willing to talk about all of it. That included Jackie.

"It's about while I was away. You know I was undercover, right? Well, I was assigned to get close to a mafia leader down in New Orleans, and to gather evidence linking him to a drug smuggling ring that murdered their mules. Anyway, the first month I was there, the boss kept me on a really short leash. Then one night, he told me that I needed to relax, so he sent me out to "have some fun." I went and saw my handler, and we figured that a woman would give me an excuse to get away occasionally and report. But the guys we were investigating were pretty smart, and I didn't want to take any chances with my cover, so I actually had to go and find a woman to date while I was there." He looked up at Brennan to find a slightly shocked face gazing back at him.

"Her name was Jackie, and she was a very nice woman, but I never felt anything other than affection for her." There was guilt in his voice for that, along with everything else, and Brennan sighed internally. The man took the world on his shoulders, even when he barely had a choice.

"Booth, stop it. I know you feel guilty for what you see as using her, but you made no promises to anyone, and it really isn't much different from casually dating someone at home. It wasn't like she was a woman you would never have considered had your situation been different."

"I know. I just feel bad. I wanted you to know about her too, before we went any farther."

"And now, I do." She paused, and the two of them simply watched each other for a moment, still not believing that they were sitting there, having that conversation. Brennan took a deep breath, steeling herself to begin her part of the story.

"I guess it's my turn now." Booth nodded, and Brennan could see the wariness in his eyes, but forged onward, regardless. "I love you too, Booth, and as much as you seem to regret some of you actions, I feel regret for mine that night outside the Hoover. The injury that I caused to you was…" She trailed off, closing her eyes and seeing the pain that lived in his eyes that night and every day after behind her closed lids. The image brought a fresh wave of remorse and guilt, and she forced herself to continue. "It was unforgivable and unbearable for both of us. Just know, Booth, that my refusal had everything to do with me being afraid. That you believed my rejection was because you weren't good enough is heart-crushing to me, and I will regret that forever." She paused, gathering more strength, hoping that she would be able to make her way through her explanation without losing complete control.

"Booth, I was—and still am, to a certain extent—terrified that if we give this relationship a chance, eventually we will break up, and I will lose you too. The thought of not having you in my life permanently feels like someone placed a cement block on my chest—it always has. I will admit, a big part of my fear is that you will eventually realize that I am not the sort of woman that you want to spend the rest of your life with, but more than that, I live in fear of the idea that I will drive you away. That's why I said those things that night. Because I was afraid—not because I didn't love you. I have loved you for years." Brennan met his eyes, not surprised, but still taken aback by the naked emotion in them. She continued.

"I left the Jeffersonian because I needed to figure myself out. I won't say that I needed to find myself, but I was so afraid of losing you, both by my own hand and at the hand of some psychopath. I felt like I needed to prove that I could live without you." She paused again, and gave him a wry smile. "I can live without you, Booth, but Maluku taught me that I never want to again." Booth reached for the hand that still rested on his forearm and covered it with his own. He squeezed her hand, the slight pressure a reassurance that he could not yet give verbally—_I'm here, you won't lose me if you don't want to. Please help me fix us._ Brennan gave him a watery smile, the tears that lived just behind her eyes coming out in force.

"Then, you came home and told me all about the wonderful woman you'd met, and how happy you were. I remember that first time I met her, I knew that I had to let you go, once and for all. I went home that night, and I realized that loving you meant letting you be happy with someone else. So I did. I knew that trying to keep our relationship the same would hurt her, and by extension, you and I couldn't do that. I made it so that we were the professional colleagues that we always purported to be, and you seemed willing to go along with it, which only confirmed the clear indicators that you had moved on, once and for all." Brennan stared at their joined hands for a moment, and Booth was shocked when he felt moisture fall on the back of his hand.

"It seems that I only hurt you more by doing that, which I regret even more. I apologize for that, as well, Booth, and I hope that you can forgive me." The pain and remorse that laced her voice sent Booth scooting towards her, ready to envelope her in his arms, but Brennan pulled away and stood.

"No. This is why I am so afraid of a relationship between us, Booth! Every time something important happens, I screw it up. You say you want to give us a shot—I break your heart and turn you down. You do your very best to make me comfortable—I run away and leave you bereft. You come back with a woman that you care about significantly—I try to make you life easier, and still hurt you! I cannot seem to do anything right, and I am terrified that someday, you'll get sick of me hurting you time and time again, and leave. I want you in my life, Booth—so badly that I can't breathe sometimes, but I won't risk our friendship on something so foolhardy. I can't." Her voice broke on the last word, and Booth rose quickly to his feet, snagging her by the elbow as she turned away and pulling her into a crushing embrace. Brennan's hands splayed across his chest, and the shaking sobs that wracked her body made him pull her ever closer. One hand rested gently on the back of her neck, and the other settled naturally in the small of her back. He soothed her with words and a soft voice, the tone of his voice more important than the words.

"Oh Bones, stop doubting yourself. It's okay, really. Shh, we'll figure this out, alright?" With a sniffle and a nod of her head, Brennan pulled back infinitesimally. She looked up at him, and the red rims of her eyes made the clear blue stand out even more than normal. She gave him a weak smile.

"See, even now, you're comforting me Booth. I don't know if I can do the same for you." Her voice was barely more than a whisper, and Booth sighed.

"Bones, I'm going to say something here, and it might scare you but it's the absolute truth, okay?" She nodded again. "You know how you always call me the alpha male, kind of make fun of me for it?" Her smile was genuine, and lit up her whole face.

"Yes of course. Your need to be the dominant—" Booth cut her off with a finger to her lips.

"Comforting you is just another one of those ways that I am asserting my position in your life. It's part of my nature to make you feel better, because that is what I always want to do for the people I love." He took a breath. "I don't really need you to do anything to comfort me. Just seeing you, and feeling your hand, or talking to you on the phone—that soothes all my hurts most of the time. When it's you that hurts me, your apologies make me forgive anything that you might have done. The look in your eyes—sincerity, guilt, hope—it always tells me that you mean it, that you regret hurting me from the bottom of your heart. That means more to me than any verbal or physical reassurance, and it will always be enough for me. You keep letting me hug you, and doing what you already do, and we can make this work."

"Really?" The disbelief in her voice made Booth pull her tight against him again.

"Yeah, Bones, really. You are always more than enough for me. You don't need to be scared of it. We're good at everything we do, you know?" She chuckled into his shoulder, and grasped him tighter.

* * *

It seemed like they had been holding each other for both an instant and forever. At some point, they sank back onto the couch, neither relinquishing their hold on the other. Finally, Booth pulled back.

"I guess this means we've gotta figure this whole mess out the rest of the way, huh?" Brennan's eyes went a few shades darker with worry, and she bit her lip and looked down at their intertwined hands again.

"Booth, I do love you. I want to have a serious, monogamous relationship with you, but I understand if you are unable or unwilling to give me that." She did not look up at him until she felt his hands on her cheeks, pulling her face to look at his.

"Bones, how can you even think that? Of course I want this. I love you too, and all I have wanted for the past seven years is to be with you." He fixed her with a determined gaze. "To be able to do this." He pulled her face towards his, and then they were kissing. His lips were chapped but soft, pressing against hers in the most tender kiss she had ever received, and she responded in kind, eagerly accepting him. The kiss said all the things that they already had said—the _"I'm sorry's" _and the_ "I love you's" _and the "_Give us a chance's,"_ and held all their promises for the future. When it ended, both of them pulled back, and Brennan heart clenched at the look of pure happiness on Booth's face, wondering at the fact that she had put that look there. She decided in that moment that whatever it took, she would make sure that the fledgling romantic relationship between the two of them survived. Booth opened his eyes and looked steadily back at her—the love that he had once tried to mask now clear in his expression.

"Okay, Booth." He gave her a perplexed look.

"Okay to what?" She smiled, her beatific as she sat with him on her couch in the middle of the week.

"Anything. Everything. Whatever you want to do, I will be there with you." It was almost freeing to give up control of her happiness like that, but there was a big part of Brennan that knew Booth was the only one she would ever trust in that way. Her smile grew impossible wider as Booth just gaped at her in surprise. He recovered quickly though, and his surprise turned to smugness as he leaned towards her.

"Well, then. What I want to do is…" He leaned in further, and Brennan unconsciously licked her lips. He only stopped a hair's breadth from her face. She could feel the warm puffs of his breath drifting across her lips and chin. "…Go slow." He pulled back abruptly, and Brennan almost followed, before getting control of herself. She gave him a disbelieving look.

"What? Why? Haven't the past seven years been enough for you?" He smirked at her before his expression cleared to one that spoke of his seriousness.

"We can't mess this up, Bones. It's been so long in the making, and just falling into bed with each other is asking for trouble. I, for one need to be able to make sure that I can separate our personal and professional lives very well before we have sex. If I am unavoidably distracted with just the thought of being able to kiss you, how bad do you think it will be if I'm thinking about hw amazing we were the night before. I have to be able to keep us both safe, and that means going slow." He stopped, waiting for her argument. Brennan's face was considering, and finally she nodded.

"That is actually very rational, Booth. Upsetting the balance of our dynamic too much at once could have unforeseen consequences, and an adjustment period before we take that last step makes logical sense." Booth laughed.

"I thought I would have to fight you on this, Bones. I am so glad I didn't, because well, you totally would have won." Brennan joined him in his laughter, and the two collapsed back into the couch.

"Booth, are we telling everyone?" Brennan's question was hesitant, and Booth drew his arm around her firmly.

"Yes, Bones. I don't want to keep this a secret. Tomorrow, I am going to go to Hacker, and tell him that we have begun a romantic relationship. You can do the same with Cam, Angela, whoever you want. I don't really foresee it being a huge problem. We will likely have to fill out a mountain of disclaimers and paperwork, and see Sweets regularly, but I don't care." She nodded against his shoulder again.

"Good. I didn't want to keep you a secret either." The two leaned further together, and sat there in a comfortable silence for nearly an hour. Finally, Booth pulled away, and began to get up.

"I really need to get home, Bones. It's pretty late, and as much fun as this is, I need to be well-rested tomorrow." She nodded, and watched as he gathered his things. They walked to the door, and Booth turned just on the other side. The kiss he leaned back to press to her lips was short, but filled with the same emotion as the earlier ones, and as he pulled back, both their eyes sparkled. "I love you, Bones. Good night." She returned his smile, and his sentiment.

"I love you too, Booth. Please drive carefully. Good night." She waited until he had disappeared behind the door to the stairs before closing her own front door, and heading to her own room, still in shock at the changes that had take place that night. She was elated, and gratified to know that Booth really did feel the same way as her.

Twenty minutes later, lying in bed, she received a text message.

_Bones—I know you worry. I'm home safe and sound. I'll see you tomorrow. B._

_

* * *

"...I've learned that we must look inside our hearts to find a world full of love, like yours, like mine, like home."-Home, _from "The Wiz"


	5. Chapter 5

AN: Oh my gosh. I am so sorry for leaving this unattended for so long. Real life kind of got in the way. I got a job (after being unemployed for four months-yay!) and adjusting to that has taken some getting used to. And I'm the head of the planning committee for this huge Halloween Masked Ball that's somehow managed to eat up all my free time, along with a smattering of other personal issues. I kept meaning to work on this, but then something else would come up. And then when I did (finally) get to it, I struggled. I'm still not really happy with this chapter. But c'est la vie.

Just a head's up-this one kind of jumps a lot. We cover a lot of time in a short-ish chapter. And it came out a little angstier than I had intended. But it get the characters where I need them to be. There are two more chapters after this one-well, a chapter and an epilogue-so we're coming to an end.

Again, I have no beta, so any mistakes are my own. Feel free to point them out to me so I can fix them. Now, on with the story:

(P.S. If you would like to hear my thoughts on the new season, I'm putting them at the bottom)

* * *

_Don't fight, d__on't do it again._  
_Don't scream, d__on't want to hear it again._  
_Don't say, d__on't say you're leaving this time._  
_Don't you know,_ y_ou're all I have in this life.  
Don't take it so lightly when you say you love me. _

_-St. Lola in the Fields, Don't Say

* * *

_

Chapter 5:

Brennan sat in the emergency room, sitting straight up in the uncomfortable orange plastic chair. She stared blankly ahead, clearly not aware of her surroundings—the only indication of her emotions was the dried tear tracks on her cheeks. Angela sat next to her, holding her hand and watching her worriedly. Finally, she gently shook Brennan, and Brennan looked over at her.

"Bren, it's okay. Do you understand? He's just fine. The doctor told you that he was going to need to rest for a few days and then be careful with his arm until the wound heals. It was little more than a graze." Brennan only stared at her uncomprehendingly, and Angela suppressed a shiver at the naked terror in Brennan's eyes. She tried again. "Bren, sweetie. Booth is fine. Everything will be okay." Angela nodded towards the hall. "The doctor even said you could go see him now." Brennan blinked slowly, seeming to come back to herself—back from wherever she had been. She shook her head, lowering it until her face was nearly at her knees, pointed towards the ground. A sharp sob broke out of her, and Angela prepared to enfold her in a hug, but no more sobs came. After a minute, Brennan rose, her face clear of the emotion that had been so plainly written on it moments earlier. She headed for the hallway that Angela had indicated, and paused just before she turned the corner.

"Thank—" Her voice broke, and she cleared her throat before speaking again, her voice a little lower than normal, but without the huskiness that Angela expected. "Thank you for staying with me, Angela." Her eyes softened as she continued. "And for…everything else. Everything you said. You really are an amazing friend." With that, she retreated down the hallway to visit Booth.

* * *

_12 Hours Earlier_

"Damn it, Bones, why can't you ever listen to me? For the love of God, when I tell you to let me do the talking, I mean let me do the talking. You just told that guy what we knew, but we don't have the evidence to hold him!" Booth thundered into the lab behind Brennan, and she whipped around to respond, the attention of the entire lab on their loud argument. Angela watched nearby, a twitch of a smile on her lips, and rolled her eyes.

"Why are you so controlling, Booth? You're always telling me what to do, and I don't understand why! You say that I'm getting better at my interpersonal communication, but then forbid me from saying anything during interviews or interrogations. I made a rational decision, and I still think it was the right one. Your need to always be in charge is ridiculous, Booth. And just because we have decided—" She broke off rather suddenly, aware of their audience—and the fact that neither of them had been able to inform anyone of the change in their relationship.

Early in the morning after their conversation, Booth had received a call about a body, and the case had taken nearly all their free time. It was two days later, and neither of them had slept more than five or six hours since the body of thirteen year old Madison Johnson had been found brutalized and murdered in a park just blocks from her childhood home. They had just come from questioning a person of interest, and Booth had been berating her the whole time for giving away information in her questions. She took a deep breath, and calmed down. "Look, Booth, I am sorry if I overstepped my bounds, but I believed I was doing the right thing. We will catch him."

Brennan watched a little of the tension drain from his shoulders, but not all of it, and she steeled herself for his continuing—if slightly dimmed—anger.

"Yeah, well, even if you thought you were right, if he really is our murderer, you can bet that he's getting ready to run, and we have nothing to go on to keep that from happening." He let out a long sigh, and rolled his shoulders. "Look, I don't want to fight about this, okay? Let's just…focus on getting something to catch him." Before Brennan could respond, both of their attention was drawn to Wendell approaching them at a near run. Breathlessly, he gave them his findings—findings that linked the murder weapon definitively to their suspect, and with rushed thanks thrown over their shoulders, Booth and Brennan left for the crime scene.

As they arrived at the suspect's house, Booth turned to Brennan, a nearly pleading, desperate look on his face.

"Bones, please, just stay behind me, okay? Let me take point on this—we don't know what to expect in there." Brennan blinked at him, recognizing the fear hidden beneath his exasperation, and gave a hesitant nod. Booth gave her a brief, grateful smile, and then they entered the house.

When she looked back on the events, Brennan would marvel at the fact that this time, she had done exactly what Booth asked her to. She followed his directions to the letter. She recognized that her willingness to follow his lead probably stemmed from a worry that if one of them got hurt because they weren't communicating well, the FBI would sever the partnership in a heartbeat once they were informed of their new romantic relationship.

Booth knocked on the door, announcing that he was FBI, and when they heard movement inside the house, he rammed against the door with his shoulder and they entered. There was a certain fear that always raced through Brennan whenever they went into a house with a suspect—it always seemed to be dark and dreary, with few windows and very little outside contact. This house was no difference. They crept silently through the rooms, and at the sound of a creak, Brennan whirled around.

She found herself face to face with the barrel of a pistol, and let out a small gasp. Before she could do anything to disarm the man, he had pulled her to his side. Booth had turned as she gasped, and stood tensely with his gun trained on the man's head.

"Let her go, man." His voice was dark and confident, like it was so many other times in similar situations, but their suspect—well, murderer, clearly—had no intention of listening. Brennan heard him chuckle close to her ear, and felt his humid breath pass her cheek. She repressed a shudder at the feeling.

"Not a chance, Agent Booth. I saw the way you look at her, and she is definitely my ticket out of here." For the rest of her life, Brennan wondered about the next events. She had no idea why Booth hesitated as he had, but she thanked a God she didn't believe in that the suspect was such a terrible shot. As he pulled her backwards, he leveled his gun at a pursuing Booth. In the second that Booth's eyes met hers, the suspect let off a single shot, and Booth reacted. His left arm dropped to his side, covering the wound that she could see seeping blood, and his right maintained an unfaltering grip on his weapon as he fired a single shot through the man's throat. Brennan felt his arms convulse around her briefly and then he fell. She stumbled back, almost landing on top of him, but caught herself, and rushed to where Booth lay bleeding.

As she hovered over him, retrieving her phone and calling an ambulance, trying to stem the flow of blood, she brutally pushed back images of his eyes falling shut that night at the Checkerbox, knowing that this wound was not nearly as severe. For one, Booth was smiling up at her—pained, a little weak, but a smile none the less—and she could see the reassurance he was trying to give her. He might have tried to tell her that he was fine, but she had no real memory of those words. Emotions and thoughts were screaming through her head, and all she could focus on was the blood—and trying to stop it.

Time whirled by again as the ambulance and coroner arrived for Booth and the dead man, and Brennan only had a vivid memory of the doctor coming out once Booth was out of surgery. The look on his face had worried her, and she flashed back to a similar instance. She didn't hear as the doctor told her, Angela, Hodgins, and Cam that Booth had sustained a fairly minor wound, and that he would be fine. She did not realize that the haggard stress on the doctor's face was not because Booth had died under his care, but because there were so many others who had or might—some that very night. She did not hear Cam excuse herself with a sigh of relief and a promise to call in the morning, and she did not hear Hodgins ask if he could get coffee for her and Angela. She sat in the hard plastic chair in a crowded, overworked hospital reliving the night when she was told that Booth was dead until Angela's words and presence brought her back to the present, and she walked toward Booth's room, not sure what she was feeling or what to say.

* * *

She reached the doorway, and stood there watching him for a moment, reveling in the steady up and down of his chest as he breathed all on his own. There was an IV hooked up to him, and a single monitor, but other than that, he was unburdened by the equipment that was so often present in hospital rooms. That fact alone brought even more comfort. His voice startled.

"Are you coming in, Bones, or are you going to stand there and stare forever?" There was a lilt of teasing in his slightly slurred words, and a tiny smile graced his lips. His eyes lazily drifted open, and he tried to focus them on her. Brennan hesitated for a moment, and then took a few steps forward. Booth stared at her.

"C'mon, Bones, come hold my hand. That's what girlfriends do when their men get shot—the whole weepy, teary, melodramatic thing. I know I'm more likely to get my ass kicked than melodrama from you, but I want to hold your hand." Brennan stiffened at his words, but moved forward nonetheless. She took his hand, and as he smiled hazily up at her, she found herself smiling back. After a few minutes of silence, Booth drifted back to sleep and Brennan found herself alone with her thoughts.

* * *

The next morning Brennan awoke with a sore neck and a strong hand gripping hers. She looked up to see Booth grinning at her, his eyes clear of the drugs that had clouded them the night before.

"Morning, beautiful. Gotta say, I never saw our first morning waking up together quite like this, but it kind of makes sense." His flippancy upset Brennan, but she forced a smile at him. His own grin faltered a bit, and just as he opened his mouth to ask her what was wrong, his doctor walked in.

"Agent Booth, glad to see you awake and alert. I have good news for you." Booth and Brennan both looked at him expectantly. "You are going to be discharged this morning, so long as you agree to go home and rest—nothing strenuous for at least a week." His voice held a tone of accusation, as though he believed that Booth was going to disregard his instructions, and Booth turned a sheepish smile on him, knowing that there was some truth to the doctor's worries. Brennan's calm voice broke the silence.

"Do not worry, Doctor. I will ensure that he gets the appropriate amount of rest to recuperate. He will not be performing any tasks that he shouldn't." Her tone indicated that she knew her orders would be carried out, regardless of any protest. Both the doctor and Booth hid smirks—the doctor because of the clear relationship between the two, and Booth because he loved to see this side of Brennan.

"Okay then. I'll have the nurses draw everything up, and we can get you out of here as soon as possible." The doctor left the room, and Booth turned back to Brennan.

"Bones, about earlier…" She cut him off.

"Not right now, Booth. Just… not right now. Later." He nodded slowly, and they began to make plans for his transport home and his days off. After some arguing, they determined that he would stay with Brennan, so that she could help him with whatever he needed. Booth was less than happy with the arrangement, but for some reason, Brennan seemed extremely unhappy with the idea of staying at his apartment, and refused to leave him alone. So he gave in, as he usually did with Brennan.

* * *

The next week passed in a routine, and after the third day, Booth began to worry about Brennan. She was doing everything she was supposed to, but she was still being distant. Every time he tried to bring up her standoffish-ness, she told him "later." He was beginning to wonder if "later" was ever going to arrive.

The day before Booth was set to return to work—desk duty only—he decided that he and Brennan were going to talk if it (or she) killed him. That night, he planned to keep her from heading to bed early, and insisting on making her talk to him. So it surprised him when she settled on the couch after dinner, fixed him with a steady, penetrating gaze, and said, "We need to discuss a few things, Booth."

After a moment of silence, he nodded and joined her on the couch.

"Why don't you start? You can tell me why you've been pulling away from me." She kept that unfailing gaze locked on him while she considered his words.

"I am trying to ascertain whether or not my emotional capabilities allow me to engage in a romantic relationship where I get you hurt continually. I am unsure how to deal with this, and I find…" Her voice cracked a tiny bit. "I find myself second guessing our decision." Booth sucked in a breath. That was pretty much what he had thought. Now he just had to talk her out of it.

"Bones, look. I know it was scary, but part of my job is to confront violent criminals. Whether or not we were in a relationship, I could have been hurt."

"That's not true, Booth! He specifically put us in the situation we were in because he knew you cared about me! He said so." The tears gathering in her eyes broke Booth's heart, largely because he knew her words were true.

"Bones, please, listen. This was the first time we've been in that sort of situation since we both got back. Neither of us is used to it yet." Brennan was shaking her head.

"I'm sorry, Booth. I don't want to end this, but I need to think. I need time…and some space." She looked up at him, and the crystal blue of her eyes magnified by the tears cut him as well as a blade. He gazed at her for a moment, and knew that he couldn't change her mind about it right then. He sighed in defeat, and his head dropped.

"Okay. Okay. Do you want me to leave now, or can I stay this last night?" She looked at him, clearly debating something.

"Please, stay." She took a breath. "I've been keeping my distance all week to keep this easier, but it hasn't helped." A pause. "Booth, I know I have no right to ask this, especially after what I just said, but can you just hold me tonight? Please?" There was a pleading in her voice that reminded Booth of grief, despair and unthinkable sadness—and it hit him that she had probably relived that entire awful night at the Checkerbox over and over again since the shooting. He cursed himself internally for not thinking of that earlier, and gathered her in his arms.

"Of course I will, Bones. I know you love me, and I know you need time to sort out your emotions. I am here for whatever you need." He felt the wetness from her tears soak into his shirt, and he rose taking her with him. With equal solemnitude, the two made their way to Brennan's bedroom.

* * *

Another week had passed since Brennan had asked for time and space, and as luck would have it, there were no new cases during that time. With Brennan wanting time away from him, Booth did not think it prudent to drop by for lunch, or dinner, or just to chat, and by late Thursday afternoon, he marveled at how much he just wanted to see her and talk to her. As he was sitting at his desk contemplating this, Charlie, one of the agents under him poked his head in the doorway.

"Booth, Hacker asked to see you ASAP. I think you can head over now." Booth stood quickly, concern flashing through his mind—and then being replaced by the thought that Hacker probably just wanted to check in on his wounds, and the more alarming fact that he had never informed anyone of his Brennan's new relationship. He didn't think that this would be the opportune moment, considering that the future of said relationship was unsure, but headed to his boss's office with a degree of nervousness.

Around 10 o'clock Friday morning, Brennan looked up to a knock on her door, her hear jumping with the thought that it might be Booth, and then falling an instant later when she saw that it was Cam.

"Yes, Cam? Do you need me for something?" Cam fidgeted, and Brennan finally noticed the unease she emanated.

"Well, sort… kind of. I don't really know. Have you spoken to Booth this morning?" Brennan looked at her warily.

"No, I have not. Why?" At her answer, Cam's face paled a shade or two, and she shook her head.

"I really think you should head over to the Hoover to talk to him." Cam's evasiveness worried Brennan, and she stood and made her way over to Cam.

"What's the matter? Has something happened?" Cam met her eyes and took a deep breath.

"Not that I know of. I just heard rumors while I was over there this morning for a meeting with Caroline. I am not going to repeat them, but I really think that you need to talk to him." With that, Cam turned and strode off. After a split second's hesitation, Brennan swiftly returned to her desk to gather her things, and strode out of her office. This was not the way she wanted this reunion to go either, but apparently some things were decided for you.

* * *

_"Take my hand, take my whole life too. 'Cause I can't help falling in love with you." Elvis Presley, Can't Help Falling in Love

* * *

_

Second AN:

So I came into this season not ready to like Hannah, but ready to at least, you know, not hate her. But honestly, I don't like her. And I really don't like Booth with her. It's like he reverted four seasons. He's just different now. Also, like so many have already stated, he seems entirely to eager and overbearing about his relationship. He has never been at all eager or even willing to share anything about his personal relationships with Brennan. Now it's all he wants to talk about. Urgh. I know what TPTB are doing, but I don't like it. It makes it seem like Booth is trying to shove his happiness and sex life in front of Brennan to brag or prove something. It's uncomfortable for everyone involved. But I'm sure it will get better. Just wanted to get that off my chest. Thanks for reading!


	6. Chapter 6

AN: Sorry it's been so long! Life just got overwhelming. I suppose sometimes it does.

So, this is the last chapter, except for a short epilogue. I hope it's to everyone's liking. Just a warning, though. Brennan sort of derails into OOC behavior near the end. I couldn't figure out a way to make her in character for that part, so my apologies. Thanks to all the people who reviewed all the rest of the the chapters.

Here goes nothing.

* * *

"If your time to you is worth savin', then you better start swimmin'  
Or you'll sink like a stone. For the times, they are a-changin'."

-Bob Dylan, "The Times They Are A-Changin'"

* * *

Brennan got out of the elevator on Booth's floor and took a deep breath to steady her nerves for the upcoming encounter. Cam's slight panic had not escaped Brennan's notice, and as Cam was generally unflappable, it worried Brennan. She strode towards Booth's office, not sure what exactly to expect, but knowing that it could not be very good news.

As she walked, she appeared to everyone as confident and intimidating as she always did, but she noticed the whispers, and the agents shooting furtive glances her way. Their behavior unnerved her further, for a variety of reasons. It brought back many unpleasant memories, both in this same building and earlier in her life. But more importantly, it made her even more worried about what she would discover when she reached Booth's office. She reached his office block, and Charlie, one of Booth's desk agents, looked up at her in surprise.

"Dr. Brennan, I wasn't expecting to see you this morning." His statement was neither a question, nor incriminating in any way, simple curious.

"Good morning, Agent Burns. I was informed by Dr. Saroyan that I should see Booth promptly, and though her behavior was out of character, the similar behavior of various acquaintances of mine and Booth's leads me to believe that her discomfort was genuine and well-placed. Do you know if he is in his office?" With her head tilted curiously, it would have been much too easy to take her question for an innocent inquiry, but Charlie had been exposed to enough of Temperance Brennan to recognize the steel glint in her eye that meant she would not give up until she got her answer. He also recognized something that he thought might be fear, but decided that he had better leave that emotion up to his boss.

"Yes, I'm pretty sure he's in there. He's got a lot of paper work to do in the next few days." Brennan shot him another questioning look at his qualification, but was already making her way towards Booth's office.

"Thank you, Agent Burns." The pleasantry shot over her shoulder combined with the half-smile she gave him brought an answering smile to Charlie's face. She may not have been what anyone in the FBI expected, but she was pretty spectacular. He shook his head and went back to work.

* * *

A soft knock on Booth's office door brought him out of his reverie, and he looked up from the intimidating stack of paperwork on the desk in front of him, surprised to find Brennan staring at him with an unreadable expression on her face. He stood slowly, unsure how to react.

"Hey, Bones. How's it going?" In a brief moment the unreadable expression morphed into a blatant combination of fear, anger, and (if he wasn't mistaken) love as Brennan entered the office all the way and shut the door behind her. She simply looked at him for a few seconds, and he began to squirm before she finally spoke.

"Cam informed me this morning that I needed to come and see you immediately. As she does not know about our… changes, I initially assumed she believed that we'd had a falling out, and she wanted me to 'kiss and make up,' as Angela would say. However, her nervousness and urgency led me to believe that something significantly more serious had happened. She confirmed my suspicions when she told me that she had heard rumors about something when she came by here yesterday afternoon. She refused to tell me what the rumors were, but both her behavior and the obvious attention I received while walking through the halls lead me to believe that something has happened. And that it is something that most people assume will make me extremely unhappy." She stopped talking abruptly, and Booth realized with a start that her words were her question. Not quite knowing how to approach the situation, he didn't answer, and she spoke again suddenly.

"Is your tumor back? Have they taken you off field work? Did Andrew find out about our brief liaison and punish you? Booth, what is going on?" Booth could clearly see the fear in her eyes, now overpowering the rest of her emotions, and he took two steps across the office towards her.

"No, Bones, none of those things happened. I swear." He took a deep breath, realizing that blunt was the only way to go with this sort of news. "I've been offered a promotion, and I've all but accepted it." Like she'd been slapped, Brennan stepped back from him quickly, and he followed, reaching for her shoulders to hold her in place. When he continued, his voice was pleading, with an edge of frustration to it. "I didn't want you to find out like this. I was going to come by the lab today and talk to you, you know, tell you everything in a better setting, but I guess the rumor mill is even faster than I thought." When she looked back on it, Brennan would see that Booth had been trying to make the news easier on her by bringing it to her lab, where she was in control, and confident, and in her comfort zone. But at that moment, all she felt was a blinding fear that he was leaving her again. It quickly transformed into anger, out of preservation.

"You don't get to make decisions like that alone anymore, Booth! I know I told you I needed time and space, but you had to know that I would come back to you! I always come back to you—I can't help it! But you went and decided that I didn't get a say in our future after you convinced me to have one with you! Dammit, Booth, I was going to come to you tonight. I realized you were absolutely right about needing to adjust to our jobs and our romantic entanglement. But if you can make this kind of decision without my input at all…" She trailed off and turned towards the window to blink back tears. The surge of anger disappeared as quickly as it had come, and Brennan's shoulder's sagged with exhaustion. When she spoke again, her voice was just above a whisper. "Everyone always accuses me of running and being scared and inconsiderate, and I often do and am, but sometimes, you do the exact same things." Booth hissed in a sharp breath, and as Brennan turned to him, he felt his heart break a bit at her tears and obvious distress.

"Bones." He took a step towards her, his voice still pleading. "I haven't given them a definitive answer yet. I've… in the past I would never have considered it, but now? I don't know when I have ever been this conflicted over a decision." He sighed. "I just don't know what to do."

Shelving her own emotions for the moment, Brennan took in the set of Booth's shoulders, and the rings under his eyes. She recognized his honesty, and felt a surge of love rip through her at the clear battle that she could see him waging in his own mind. She moved toward him until she was just a few inches away, and reached out to cup his face. He relaxed into her hand, and she let out a deep breath.

"I am sorry, Booth, for lashing out at you." His eyes met her, and he gave her the smallest smile.

"Don't worry about it, Bones. I understand. I really didn't want you to find out this way." The earnestness brought an answering smile to her face, and she stepped fractionally closer. "Booth, what do you want to do? What do you honestly think the best answer is here?" He looked at her, all traces of his smile gone, and let out a deep sigh.

"Honestly, Bones? I think I should take the promotion." He saw her stiffen, and then immediately relax. As she led him to the chairs that sat just out of the line of sight from the bullpen, he hoped that they could really talk over this.

"Okay, Booth. Can you please explain your reasons to me?" He smiled again, and then began.

"First of all, it really is a great opportunity. I would be in Special Agent-In-Charge of the Major Crimes Unit here in this office. The pay would be significantly higher, and the work hours less hectic. Just thinking practically, it is clearly a better decision. Parker is getting to the age where he might start resenting me for having to cut out all the time for work, and I really don't want that to happen." Brennan nodded, but said nothing, so Booth continued. "Secondly, as much as it pains me to say this, I am getting older, and every time I sustain an injury, or have to break down a door, or even chase down a suspect on foot, I feel it for days." He paused, shooting a sidelong glance at Brennan to see her reaction. His voice got a bit quieter. "I haven't lived a life that is very…conducive to the sorts of things I do on the job. Old injuries flare up, you know. It would be boring as hell, but much less painful to spend my days at my desk." At his last comment, he heard a quiet snort from Brennan, but by the time he looked at her, she had schooled her features again. Booth took another deep breath, knowing that his last reason would be the hardest to talk about, but the easiest to explain.

"I guess the last reason has a lot to do with New Orleans. Well, it has a lot to do with a lot of the cases I've worked." Brennan's hand found its way to his forearm, and he almost smiled at her silent support. "I mean, New Orleans just sort of threw it all into relief for me. I've done things I am not at all proud of, Bones. On lots of different occasions. But the things I had to witness and participate in on that case…" He squeezed his eyes tightly shut, and shook his head before raising it to look her in the eyes. "There are days when I wonder how I even live with myself—how my friends and family can even stand to be around me—because of what I did. It wasn't the first time that I've had to play a part like that, and if I stay a field agent, it sure as hell won't be the last." His eyes met hers, and he gritted out his next sentence. "I want to be able to go to work, do my job the best way I know how, and go home at night not hating myself." Brennan's eyes filled with tears, and he knew she understood what he meant. With a calm nod, they reached an understanding, and her arms wrapped around his neck.

"Take the promotion, Booth. If it will make you happier, if it will make your life that much easier, take it. I should never have been angry that you were seriously considering it." The emotion in her voice bowled Booth over, and his own arms tightened where they had wrapped around her in answer.

"Okay. Okay." They stood in silence for a few moments, and then Booth pulled back a few inches. "Not to look a gift horse in the mouth, here Bones, but I expected more of a fight from you on this." Brennan's initial confusion gave way to a nearly unreadable expression again, and she stepped back and looked down.

"I…Of course I'm upset, but I care about you more than our working partnership, and I know how much you struggle with your job. I…I thought you knew that." There was lingering sadness in her voice, and Booth cursed himself for making her feel that way.

"Oh, Bones, of course I know that. I was just surprised. Even when it's for your own good, sometimes you're very resistant to change." Brennan looked up at him with a chagrined smile.

"I know. You once told me that the pyramids are better with change than I am." Booth shot her a sheepish smile, and she continued. "Actually, this development will not change that much from how it's been for the past few months. Dr. Lansing has been working with the temporary agent at the lab, and while Angela and Hodgins will be disappointed not to have you there, they have also been functioning very effectively with that partnership. I feel that, while not nearly as good as us, it will be a very good team." Booth stared at her for a long moment.

"A team that no longer includes you?" His words were somewhere between a question and a statement of fact.

"While I will, of course, be available to consult on any cases that require my expertise, I won't work with another FBI agent, Booth." Booth's eyebrows raised, and he felt his heart rise a bit. "I am your partner, and you are mine. If you are retiring from constant, active field work, then so am I." She took a step closer to him, closing the distance that had inexplicably opened between them during the conversation. "Incidentally, I have actually been considering returning to more normal working hours, but was unable to figure out how to do that, and maintain the quality of our working partnership. This is…unexpected, but good, I believe." She looked away from him, and Booth realized that there was something that she was keeping from him.

"What's going on, Bones? Why do you want to cut back on your hours? You love work." Brennan looked down quickly.

"I just…the months when you were away, Angela made me go out with her, or at least go over and see her and the baby. I know I won't die a lonely old woman, but I want to have something other than my work be what I'm known for. I want a real life. For the first time in 15 years, I want to be a part of a family, in whatever form it takes." Booth stared at Brennan, unsure about what to take away from her words. Her implications were cloudy, but he thought he knew what she might be talking about.

"Bones, are you talking about the family that we already have—you, me, the squints, Parker, your dad? Or are you talking about a…different kind." Brennan met his gaze unflinchingly.

"For some time, I have been reconsidering the idea of having a baby. But Booth, I understand if you aren't ready for that, or if you don't want it. I am happy with the family that we have. I just…" She trailed off, and Booth was frozen for a moment. She fixed him with her gaze as she tried to figure out what was going on in his head. Without warning, Booth's arms wrapped around her, compressing her lungs, and knocking the breath out of her. Equally sudden, Booth let go and stepped back.

"Are you sure about this, Bones? Because I sure as hell need you to be one hundred percent sure about having a baby with me. I know that I've wanted it since about two minutes after I realized how crazy in love with you I was. So you have to be sure."

"Of course I'm sure Booth. I rarely announce decisions when I am unsure." She fixed him with a quizzical look before finding herself crushed in his arms again. Irrationally, she felt a smile cross her face, and she wrapped her arms around him and held on just as tightly. She felt him smile against her hair, and then heard him speak. He started to pull back a fraction, and she held on. He chuckled and finished his sentence.

"Maybe not right away, Bones. We need to settle in a little bit, get used to the new jobs, relationship, all of that. But in a few months? Definitely. And that conversation will not be in my office, so it will end way, way differently." Brennan heaved a relieved sigh. She agreed with Booth, and reveled in the comfort of his arms. She retightened her arms around him and felt him do the same. They stood there, holding each other, for what felt like hours.

* * *

Brennan left Booth to do the paperwork for his promotion and formally accept the position, and returned to the lab to inform Cam. As she walked into the lab, she noticed Cam look at her anxiously, and Brennan walked directly over to her.

"Cam, I understand why you were so insistent that I go see Booth earlier today. He informed me of the opportunity presented to him, and after a…discussion," Cam chuckled softly, already knowing what that 'discussion' looked like "…that Booth should take the promotion." Cam expected Brennan to return and say that everything would stay the same, but not this. Her shock got the best of her, and Brennan's face softened the tiniest bit. "It's what he needs, Cam, to really be happy again. I can't hold him back from that." The conversation felt like déjà vu to both women, and Cam bristled the tiniest bit at the thought that Brennan was putting Booth's happiness above her own—again.

"What about what you need to be happy, Brennan?" Her tone was a little more belligerent than she intended, but Brennan just smiled, knowing what Cam was thinking about. "You love fieldwork, Dr. Brennan. Are you going to keep working with another agent?"

"No. Seeing that Dr. Lansing has been working very efficiently with the FBI, I recommend that he be assigned to work with the agent assigned to the Jeffersonian. I will, of course, be available for consult, but I would like to have more predictable hours. Booth and I discussed this, and we agreed that it is for the best. I would appreciate your support and considerable diplomacy while we transition." Brennan gave her a chagrined smile. "I think Angela will take it the worst."

"Of course she will. We will never hear the end of her lamenting the end of the amazing Booth-Brennan partnership." Brennan blinked at Cam, and a slow smile crossed her face.

"Only it isn't really the end of the partnership. It's just picking up with a different kind of partnership." Cam stared at her, unsure about what she meant—and then the smile crossed Cam's face too.

"I am very happy for you Dr. Brennan. This is what both of you deserve."

"Thank you, Cam." Brennan's phone rang, and she pulled it out and looked at the incoming text. With a sad sort of grin, she looked at Cam.

"Booth has officially taken the position. But just because we know this is good, and what we both need, it's still sort of sad, you know?"

"Of course it is, Dr. Brennan. But worth it."

"Completely."

* * *

"This was not your dream, but you always believed in me."

-Michael Buble, "Home"


	7. Epilogue

This is it, kids. The end. I want to thank everyone who read, and everyone who reviewed. I hope you liked the story, and felt that it was well done. I hope to see you all again when I decide to tackle my next story.

As a warning, this chapter's format is different than the rest. It is also in a different tense. But I like it. Thanks again to everyone for reading and supporting me.

* * *

"I fell in love with a careless man's careful daughter. She is the best thing that's ever been mine."

-Taylor Swift, "Mine"

* * *

Epilogue

Months passed after Booth's promotion, and he and Brennan settled into a mostly happy domestic routine. She still had a hard time leaving work at a decent hour, and he still came and got her from the lab when he thought she'd been there for far too long. She still protested. He still used his charm smile on her—along with sheer persistence and annoyance.

Sometimes, Booth forgets to check the pockets of his pants when they do laundry together. She gives him this look—one eyebrow raised, her lips pursed and quirked to one side—that clearly said "_How many times do we have to go through this, you big lug?"_ and he vows every time that he will be more diligent.

The first time they have a big fight, it ends with Brennan trying to kick Booth out. He refuses to leave, and she threatens to call the police. He sleeps on her couch that night, proving that he wouldn't give up on their relationship. Neither one of them remembers what caused the fight, but both of them remember the relief the next morning when they made up.

The first time Angela and Hodgins ask them to go out with the, the night is an unmitigated disaster—the food is terrible, the waiter is unbelievably rude, Angela and Hodgins are worried about their new babysitter, Booth and Brennan are still prickly from an argument earlier in the evening—but by the time they leave the restaurant, all four of them are laughing at the sheer ridiculousness of the situation. Angela remarks that they might as well make it regular, so the four of them try to go to dinner or dancing or something a few times a month, and each time it gets better.

Angela and Hodgins are the only ones who officially know about the relationship, but everyone else knows too. They only pretend not to.

Three months after Booth's promotion, Max suffers a heart attack, and Brennan has a minor meltdown. Max is mostly fine—or at least as fine as one can be after a moderately severe heart attack—but Booth suffers for weeks. Brennan's freak out doesn't take the form of tears, or anger, or even compartmentalization. No, hers take the form of force-feeding Booth heart healthy food until he's resorted to sneaking fries from the diner when he knows Brennan isn't around to stop him. One day, a few weeks after the heart attack, Booth refuses to eat the egg-white omelet Brennan ordered while he was washing his hands. It has only vegetables, and the smallest amount of cheese possible in an omelet, and Booth simply refuses. They discuss (argue-loudly-about) Brennan's behavior, and she sheepishly admits to the freak-out. She refused to admit that she was upset before then. It's a battle but, eventually she stops trying to single-handedly keep Booth's heart beating.

A month after that, Parker falls out of a tree at the park, and doesn't regain consciousness for nearly twenty-four hours afterwards. Brennan has never in memory seen Booth so distraught. Cam and Angela both have, but choose to keep their mouths shut. Parker awakes, and is fine other than a nasty bump on the head and a concussion. He is banned from climbing trees.

They are happy, and six months after their professional partnership ended, Booth and Brennan invite all the members of their makeshift family to the Founding Fathers for drinks. They have news to share, and everyone thinks they have an idea about what the announcement is. They are half right. Or perhaps one third right. But none of them guess all of the announcements.

"Okay, everyone, pay attention!" Booth's voice rose over the din inside in the bar, and all the laughing faces turned towards him. "Bones and I asked you all here because we have an announcement to make." He turned to Brennan, a glimmer in his eyes. "Actually, several announcements." Angela shoots a confused look to Hodgins, sure that they would have only had the one announcement and he only shrugs his shoulders in response. "First, we will start with the ones that you all are guessing anyway." Brennan slips an arm around Booth's waist, irrationally pleased with her life.

"After much effort over the past several months, our first announcement is that I am pregnant. Approximately 13 weeks along, and the baby and myself are quite healthy." She shoots a self-satisfied look towards Booth, and furrows her brow at the deep flush on his face. Taking in the barely disguised mirth in their friends, she estimates that she must have said something to embarrass him. Shrugging almost imperceptibly, she continues. "Booth has another announcement."

After swallowing the embarrassment of Brennan telling all of their closest friends just how much they've been "trying" for a baby, Booth shoots a bright smile at the crowd in front of them.

"This one's a little longer. I got called up to the ADD's office yesterday, and due to family issues, my boss is going to be retiring in the next month. Today, I accepted the position as Assistant Deputy Director of the DC Field office." The group broke into applause again, and Booth looks over at Brennan to see her smiling beatifically up at him. Angela rushes forward, intent on being the first to hug her congratulations, but Booth stops her. "There's one more."

"Booth and I have decided to purchase a domicile together." A brief second passes for translation, and then everyone erupts into laughter and applause. As their friends press in closer to hug them and offer sincere congratulations, Booth and Brennan lock eyes across the space between them. The soft smile on his face is matched by the equally happy look on her face.

The party continues, for several hours, and as Brennan stands near the bar watching while a slightly tipsy Cam demands that one of her oldest friends dance with her, Angela approaches. Tearing her eyes away from Booth leading a wobbly Cam in a slow dance with an amused look on his face, Brennan meets Angela's gaze.

"Sweetie, I am so happy for you. Like, unbelievably happy. For a while there, I was sure you two had ruined everything for good, but you didn't. And now you have a man that loves you, and a baby on the way, and soon you're going to be the owner of a new house. It's just so very exciting!" Brennan smiles at Angela's enthusiasm, knowing exactly what she means.

"I know, Ange. I am happier than I ever thought that I would be. For the first time in years, I feel like I'm really at home again." The song ends, and Booth passes Cam off to Paul, making his way over to Brennan and Angela.

"Are you guys talking about something private over here?" He pulls Brennan into his side, and she smiles at him.

"Nope. Just discussing how very happy we are right now." Booth smiles back at her, and then glances at his watch.

"Hey, it's getting late. Did you want to go home soon?"

"Of course, as long as I get to go with you."

* * *

"Take my hand. Take my whole life too.  
For I can't help falling in love with you."

-Elvis Presley, "Can't Help Falling In Love


End file.
